you going to wear to-night, Daisy?" Mrs. Sandford asked
presently.

"I do not know, ma'am."

"But you must know soon, my dear. Have you agreed to give your cousin
half the evening?"

"No, ma'am--I could not; I am engaged for every dance, and more."

"More!" said Mrs. Sandford.

"Yes, ma'am--for the next time."

"Preston has reason!" she said, laughing. "But I think, Daisy, Grant
will be the most jealous of all. Do him good. What will become of his
sciences and his microscope now?"

"Why, I shall be just as ready for them," I said.

Mrs. Sandford shook her head. "You will find the hops will take more
than that," she said. "But now, Daisy, think what you will wear; for
we must go soon and get ready."

I did not want to think about it. I expected, of course, to put on the
same dress I had worn the last time. But Mrs. Sandford objected very
strongly.

"You must not wear the same thing twice running," she said, "not if
you can help it."

I could not imagine why not.

"It is quite nice enough," I urged. "It is scarcely the least tumbled
in the world."

"People will think you have not another, my dear."

"What matter would that be?" I said, wholly puzzled.

"Now, my dear Daisy!" said Mrs. Sandford, half laughing--"you are the
veriest Daisy in the world, and do not understand the world that you
grow in. No matter; just oblige me, and put on something else
to-night. What have you got?"

I had other dresses like the rejected one. I had another still, white
like them, but the make and quality were different. I hardly knew what
it was, for I had never worn it; to please Mrs. Sandford I took it out
now. She was pleased. It was like the rest, out of the store my mother
had sent me; a soft India muslin, of beautiful texture, made and
trimmed as my mother and a Parisian artist could manage between them.
But no Parisian artist could know better than my mother how a thing
should be.

"That will do!" said Mrs. Sandford approvingly. "Dear me, what lace
you Southern ladies do wear, to be sure! A blue sash, now, Daisy?"

"No, ma'am, I think not."

"Rose? It must be blue or rose."

But I thought differently, and kept it white.

"_No_ colour?" said Mrs. Sandford. "None at all. Then let me just put
this little bit of green in your hair."

As I stood before the glass and she tried various positions for some
geranium leaves, I felt that would not do either. Any dressing of my
head would commonize the whole thing. I