; and then "on his way" was amended to "en route."

That would almost do. And then, as she regarded the finished item,
a curious feeling crept over her: a sort of reluctance, distaste
for having it printed--printing it herself, as it were. That seemed,
somehow, too--too public. And then, as she sat in a maze of strange
emotions, a sudden thought came to the rescue:

His sister--Louise! She'd forgotten to include Louise! How terrible if
she'd left out his sister! And adding the second name would remove
the personal note. She quickly interlined again, and the item stood
complete:

"Mr. Archibald Briggs and Miss Louise Briggs, who have been travelling
in California and the Far West, en route to their home in Keokuk, Iowa,
are visiting at the residence of Mr. and Mrs. Paul Bonner in Maple
Avenue."

As her father entered the office to take her home, Missy gave a deep
sigh, a sigh of mingled satisfaction and exhaustion such as seals a
difficult task well done.

Late as it was when she reached home, Missy lingered long before her
mirror. With the aid of a hand-glass she critically studied her pink
organdie from every angle. She wished she had a new dress; a delicate
wispy affair of cream net--the colour of moonlight--would be lovely
and aristocratic-looking. And with some subtle but distinguished colour
combination, like dull blue and lilac, for the girdle. That would be
heavenly. But one can't have a new dress for every party. Missy sighed,
and tilted back the dresser mirror so as to catch the swing of skirt
about her shoe-tops. She wished the skirt was long and trailing; there
was a cluster of tucks above the hem--maybe mother would allow her to
let one out; she'd ask to-morrow.

Then she tilted the mirror back to its normal position; maybe mother
would allow her to turn in the neck just a wee bit lower--like this.
That glimpse of throat would be pretty, especially with some kind of
necklace. She got out her string of coral. No. The jagged shape of coral
was effective and the colour was effective, but it didn't "go" with pale
pink. She held up her string of pearl beads. That was better. But ah! if
only she had some long pearl pendants, to dangle down from each ear;
she knew just how to arrange her hair--something like Lady Sylvia
Southwoode's--so as to set them off.

She was engaged in parting her hair in the centre and rolling it back in
simple but aristocratic-looking "puffs" on either side--she did look the
least