ttiest Miss Hancock's ever sewed
on."

"We think they are pretty," admitted Marcia modestly. "There's a sprigged
chin--" here she caught herself, remembering, and laughed. "I mean
muslin-de-laine, and a blue delaine, and a blue silk----"

"My! silk!" breathed Mary Ann in an ecstasy of wonder. "And what's she
going to be married in?"

"White," answered Marcia, "white satin. And the veil was mother's--our own
mother's, you know."

Marcia spoke it reverently, her eyes shining with something far away that
made Mary Ann think she looked like an angel.

"Oh, my! Don't you just envy her?"

"No," said Marcia slowly; "I think not. At least--I hope not. It wouldn't
be right, you know. And then she's my sister and I love her dearly, and
it's nearly as nice to have one's sister have nice things and a good time
as to have them one's self."

"You're good," said Mary Ann decidedly as if that were a foregone
conclusion. "But I should envy her, I just should. Mis' Hotchkiss told Ma
there wa'nt many lots in life so all honey-and-dew-prepared like your
sister's. All the money she wanted to spend on clo'es, and a nice set out,
and a man as handsome as you'll find anywhere, and he's well off too,
ain't he? Ma said she heard he kept a horse and lived right in the village
too, not as how he needed to keep one to get anywhere, either. That's what
I call luxury--a horse to ride around with. And then Mr. What's-his-name? I
can't remember. Oh, yes, Spafford. He's good, and everybody says he won't
make a bit of fuss if Kate does go around and have a good time. He'll just
let her do as she pleases. Only old Grandma Doolittle says she doesn't
believe it. She thinks every man, no matter how good he is, wants to
manage his wife, just for the name of it. She says your sister'll have to
change her ways or else there'll be trouble. But that's Grandma! Everybody
knows her. She croaks! Ma says Kate's got her nest feathered well if ever
a girl had. My! I only wish I had the same chance!"

Marcia held her head a trifle high when Mary Ann touched upon her sister's
personal character, but they were nearing the store, and everybody knew
Mary Ann was blunt. Poor Mary Ann! She meant no harm. She was but
repeating the village gossip. Besides, Marcia must give her mind to
sprigged chintz. There was no time for discussions if she would accomplish
her purpose before the folks came home that night.

"Mary Ann," she said in her sweet, prim way that always mad