us sneer. (Suzette's pose was a breezy
disdain for the "highlights" of Society, an affectation of frontier
simplicity and democracy. But Milly, like every woman, knew well enough
that there is always a better and a worse socially, and the important
thing is to belong to the best wherever you are, democracy or no
democracy.)

At last Milly pushed from her the mass of newspapers and lay with
upturned face, hands crossed beneath her head, staring out of her blue
eyes at the dusty ceiling, dreaming of triumphs to be, social heights to
surmount, a flutter of engagement cards winging their way like a flight
of geese to the little Acacia Street house; dreaming of men and
women--and somewhere at the end of the long vista she saw a very
gorgeous procession, herself at the head, with a long veil and an
enormous bunch of white roses clasped to her breast, moving in stately
fashion up the church aisle. At the extreme end of the vista stood an
erect black figure beside a white-robed clergyman. (For Milly now went
to the Episcopal Church, finding the service more satisfying.) The face
of this erect figure was blurred in the dream. It was full of qualities,
but lacked defining shape: it was "manly," "generous," "high-spirited,"
"rich," "successful," etc., etc. But the nearer she approached in her
vision to the altar amid the crash of organ music, the more indefinite
became the face. She tried on the figure various faces she knew, but
none seemed to fit exactly. No one possessed all the qualities.

Grandma with a cup of lukewarm tea shattered the vision.

III

MILLY BECOMES ENGAGED

"Milly," Nettie Gilbert said impressively, "I've something serious to
say to you."

It was a Sunday evening before the fire in the Gilberts' pleasant
drawing-room. The other supper guests had taken themselves off, and Roy
Gilbert had disappeared to his den, where he smoked many cigars and was
supposed to read serious books upon history and political economy.

Milly glanced apprehensively at the pretty, plump lady beside her. The
tone in which the words had been pronounced reminded her oddly of that
time so far away--so very far back--when Eleanor Kemp had talked to her
seriously about completing her education.

"Yes, dear?" she answered, caressing a dimpled hand at her side.

"Milly,"--Mrs. Gilbert leaned forward and frowned slightly. Milly
thought, "Nettie's getting fat, like her mother." The Gilberts had
awfully good food and a great de