mbittered envy I feel for a cow"--an ambiguous compliment which
Mrs. Emery had resented on behalf of her old ally.

Now, as Mrs. Emery added to her greeting, "You'll excuse me just a
moment, won't you, I must settle some things with my decorator," Miss
Burgess felt a rich content in her hostess' choice of words. There
_were_ people in Endbury society who would have called him, as had the
perplexed maid, "the gentleman from the greenhouse." Later, asked for
advice, she had walked about the lower floor of the house with Mrs.
Emery and the florist, saturated with satisfaction in the process of
deciding where the palms should be put that were to conceal the
"orchestra" of four instruments, and with what flowers the mantels
should be "banked."

After the man had gone, they settled to a consideration of various
important matters which was interrupted by an impassioned call of Madame
Boyle from the stairs, "Could she bring Maddemwaselle down to show this
_perfect_ fit?"--and they glided into a rapt admiration of the
unwrinkled surface of peach-colored satin which clad Lydia's slender and
flexibly erect back. When she turned about so that Madame could show
them the truly exqueese effect of the trimming at the throat, her face
showed pearly shadows instead of its usual flower-like glow. As Madame
left the room for a moment, Miss Burgess said, with a kind, respectful
facetiousness, "I see that even fairy princesses find the emotions of
getting engaged a little trying."

Lydia started, and flushed painfully. "Oh, Mother--" she began.

Her mother cut her short. "My _dear_! Miss Burgess!" she pointed out, as
who should deplore keeping a secret from the family priest, "You know
she never breathes a word that people don't want known. And she had to
be told so she can know how to _put_ things all this winter."

"I'm sure it's the most wonderfully _suitable_ marriage," pronounced
Miss Burgess.

A ring at the door-bell was instantly followed by the bursting open of
the door and the impetuous onslaught of a girl, a tall, handsome,
brown-eyed blonde about Lydia's age, who, wasting no time in greetings
to the older women, flung herself on Lydia's neck with a wild outcry of
jubilation. "My dear! Isn't it dandy! Perfectly _dandy_! Paul met me at
the train last night and when he told me I nearly swooned for joy! Of
all the tickled sisters-in-law! I wanted to come right over here last
night, but Paul said it was a secret, and wouldn't let