y would all come back from the washing
torn and hanging in threads, and Jansena had to mend those as well as
her own clothes. You see, they do not last at all--and they cost a large
sum of money; but it is proper for great ladies to wear them."

"I am not sure of that, Britta," said Thelma, still musingly. "But
still, it may be--my bridal things may not please Philip. If you know
anything about it, you must tell me what is right."

Britta was in a little perplexity. She had gathered some idea from her
friend Jansena concerning life in London,--she had even a misty notion
of what was meant by a "trousseau" with all its dainty, expensive, and
often useless fripperies; but she did not know how to explain her-self
to her young mistress, whose simple, almost severe tastes would, she
instinctively felt, recoil from anything like ostentation in dress, so
she was discreetly silent.

"You know, Britta," continued Thelma gently, "I shall be Philip's wife,
and I must not vex him in any little thing. But I do not quite
understand. I have always dressed in the same way,--and he has never
said that he thought me wrongly clothed."

And she looked down with quite a touching pathos at her straight, white
woolen gown, and smoothed its folds doubtfully. The impulsive Britta
sprang to her side and kissed her with girlish and unaffected
enthusiasm.

"My dear, my dear! You are more lovely and sweet than anybody in the
world!" she cried. "And I am sure Sir Philip thinks so too!"

A beautiful roseate flush suffused Thelma's cheeks, and she smiled.

"Yes, I know he does!" she replied softly. "And, after all, it does not
matter what one wears."

Britta was meditating,--she looked lovingly at her mistress's rippling
wealth of hair.

"Diamonds!" she murmured to herself in a sort of satisfied soliloquy.
"Diamonds, like those you have on your finger, Froeken,--diamonds all
scattered among your curls like dew-drops! And white satin, all shining,
shining!--people would take you for an angel!"

Thelma laughed merrily. "Britta, Britta! You are talking such nonsense!
Nobody dresses so grandly except queens in fairy-tales."

"Do they not?" and the wise Britta looked more profound than ever.
"Well, we shall see, dear Froeken--we shall see!"

"_We?_" queried Thelma with surprised emphasis.

Her little maid blushed vividly, and looked down demurely, twisting and
untwisting the string of her apron.

"Yes, Froeken," she said in a low tone. "I