ly and
she dressed in haste, not even taking time to glance toward the new folds
of chintz that drew her thoughts closetward. She dared not say anything
about it yet. There was much to be done, and not even Kate had time for an
idle word with her. Marcia was called upon to run errands, to do odds and
ends of things, to fill in vacant places, to sew on lost buttons, to do
everything for which nobody else had time. The household had suddenly
become aware that there was now but one more intervening day between them
and the wedding.

It was not until late in the afternoon that Marcia ventured to put on her
frock. Even then she felt shy about appearing in it.

Madam Schuyler was busy in the parlor with callers, and Kate was locked in
her own room whither she had gone to rest. There was no one to notice if
Marcia should "dress up," and it was not unlikely that she might escape
much notice even at the supper table, as everybody was so absorbed in
other things.

She lingered before her own little glass looking wistfully at herself. She
was pleased with the frock she had made and liked her appearance in it,
but yet there was something disappointing about it. It had none of the
style of her sister's garments, newly come from the hand of the village
mantua-maker. It was girlish, and showed her slip of a form prettily in
the fashion of the day, but she felt too young. She wanted to look older.
She searched her drawer and found a bit of black velvet which she pinned
about her throat with a pin containing the miniature of her mother, then
with a second thought she drew the long braids up in loops and fastened
them about her head in older fashion. It suited her well, and the change
it made astonished her. She decided to wear them so and see if others
would notice. Surely, some day she would be a young woman, and perhaps
then she would be allowed to have a will of her own occasionally.

She drew a quick breath as she descended the stairs and found her
stepmother and the visitor just coming into the hall from the parlor.

They both involuntarily ceased their talk and looked at her in surprise.
Over Madam Schuyler's face there came a look as if she had received a
revelation. Marcia was no longer a child, but had suddenly blossomed into
young womanhood. It was not the time she would have chosen for such an
event. There was enough going on, and Marcia was still in school. She had
no desire to steer another young soul through the variou