tie his cravat in a better-looking bow than
he had done. Since the night when Richard first told her of Ethelyn, it
had more than once occurred to Melinda that possibly she might yet bear
the name of Markham, for her woman nature was quick to see that James,
at least, paid her the homage which Richard had withheld. But Melinda's
mind was not yet made up, and as she was too honest to encourage hopes
which might never be fulfilled, she would not even look up into the
handsome eyes resting so admiringly upon her as she tied the bow of the
cravat and felt James' breath upon her burning cheeks. She did, however,
promise to dance the first set with him, and then she ran upstairs to
see if Ethelyn needed her. But Eunice had been before her, and Ethelyn's
toilet was made.

Had this party been at Mrs. Dr. Van Buren's, in Boston, Ethelyn would
have worn her beautiful white satin with the fleecy lace; but here it
would be out of place, she thought, and so she left it pinned up in
towels at the bottom of her trunk, and chose a delicate lavender,
trimmed with white applique. Lavender was not the most becoming color
Ethelyn could wear, but she looked very handsome in it, with the soft
pearls upon her neck and arms. Richard thought her dress too low, while
modest Andy averted his eyes, lest he should do wrong in looking upon
the beautiful round neck and shoulders which so greatly shocked his
mother. "It was ridiculous and disgraceful for respectable wimmen folks
to dress like that," she said to Melinda Jones, who spoke up for
Ethelyn, saying the dress was like that of all fashionable ladies, and
in fact was not as low as Mrs. Judge Miller wore to a reception when
Melinda was at school in Camden.

Mrs. Markham "did not care for Miss Miller, nor forty more like her.
Ethelyn looked ridickerlous, showing her shoulderblades, with that sharp
point running down her back, and her skirts moppin' the floor for half a
yard behind."

Any superfluity of length in Ethelyn's skirts was more than
counterbalanced by Mrs. Markham's, who this night wore the heavy black
silk which her sister-in-law had matched in Boston ten years before. Of
course it was too narrow and too short, and too flat in front, Andy
said, admiring Ethelyn far more than he did his mother, even though the
latter wore the coiffure which Aunt Barbara had sent her, and a big
collar made from the thread lace which Mrs. Captain Markham, of
Chicopee, had also matched in Boston. Ethely