have opened most unhappily; but Phil's
party was an event of importance not only in her life, but in Amzi's as
well. Everybody who had the slightest title to consideration received an
invitation. He was glad his sisters had suggested that the Holtons be
invited. It gave him an excuse for opening the doors wide. He heard much
from his kinsfolk about the prosperity of the Holtons, who were held up
to him in rebuke for his own sluggish business methods. He wanted his
sisters and the rest of the world to know that the First National Bank
of Montgomery aroused in him no jealous pangs.

Phil arrived at Amzi's early and ran upstairs to take off her wraps.
When this was accomplished and her Aunt Fanny's housemaid, lent for the
occasion, had duly admired her, she knocked boldly on her uncle's door.

"Come in, you Phil," he shouted.

Amzi stood before his chiffonier in his shirt sleeves, trying to make a
bow of his white tie. A cigar, gripped firmly in his teeth, was not
proving of much assistance in the operation. As Phil crossed the room,
he jerked off the strip of lawn and threw it into the open drawer.

"See what you've done? See all that litter? All that stuff crumpled up
and wasted just on your account? I told that fellow in Indianapolis to
give me the ready-made kind that buckles behind, but he wouldn't listen;
said they don't keep 'em any more. And look at that! It's a good thing I
got a dozen! Thunder!"

The "Thunder" was due to the fact that in his excess of emotion over the
difficulties with his raiment, his eyes had not until that instant taken
in Phil. His jaw fell as he stared and tears filled his eyes. Above the
soft folds of her white crepe gown the firm clean lines of her shoulders
and throat were revealed and for the first time he fully realized that
the Phil who had gladdened his days by her pranks--Phil the romp and
hoyden--had gone, and that she would never be quite the same again.
There was a distinct shock in the thought. It carried him back to the
day when her mother had danced across the threshold from youth to
womanhood, with all of Phil's charm and grace and her heart of laughter.

Phil fanned herself languidly, feigning to ignore his bewilderment. An
aigrette in her hair emphasized her height. She lifted her arms and,
whistling softly, pirouetted about the room. Her movements were those of
vigorous, healthy youth. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks aglow.

"Thunder!" gasped Amzi, feeling absentl