ly said one of the sweetest things he ever said to me.
Of course, it wasn't true but it made me so happy. "Dearest," he
said "everything I should love best to be, you are."

Before dressing for dinner, Dad came to my room "to talk things
over," as he put it. He was so superbly satisfied with himself and
the world, I could hardly forbear a smile.

"Naturally, I should be the last person to say 'I told you so',
Elizabeth, but you see what patience has done. It is always best to
be patient, my child."

"Yes, Dad." "Blakely's mother has acted very handsomely toward us,
considering--"

"Very handsomely, CONSIDERING," I agreed.

"And we must try to meet her half way." "Yes, Dad."

"No doubt she had her reasons for behaving as she did."

"I'm sure of it."

"You see, my dear, I've understood the situation from the very
first."

"You sweet old simpleton, of course you have! But here it is half
past seven, and you haven't begun to dress. Be off with you."

Although, at first, I had felt it would be all but impossible for me
to attend Mrs. Porter's dinner, my talk with Blakely had so raised
my spirits that now I was able to face the ordeal with something
very like serenity. What did it matter? What did anything matter, so
long as Blakely loved me? Then, too, I knew I was looking my very
best; my white lace gown was a dream; Valentine had never done my
hair so becomingly.

When Blakely called at our rooms for Dad and me, I was not at all
unhappy. And the dear boy was so relieved to see it! I will confess,
however, to one moment of real terror as we approached the drawing
room where we were to join our hostess. But her greeting was most
cordial and reassuring. And when she begged me to stand up with her,
and help her receive her guests, I almost felt at home, for I knew
it meant her surrender was unconditional.

After, that, it was like a beautiful dream. Except that some of the
"Choicest Flowers" of San Francisco society were fearfully and
fashionably late, nothing occurred to disturb the social atmosphere.
And when, on entering the dining room, I saw how the guests were
placed, I could have hugged Blakely's mother. For where do you
suppose she had put Dad? On her left! Of course the duke, as guest
of honor, was on her right; and I sat next to the duke, and Blakely
sat next to me.

By placing us so, Mrs. Porter had supplied the balance of the table
with a topic of conversation, always a desirable addition to a
di