h a green and gold shimmer, as of leaves and flowers.
All unmoved by, and oblivious of, the splendor of woman's gear was
David Hautville usually, but this silk, radiant with the weaving of
party-lights, affected him with a memory of old happiness, so vague
that it was scarce more than a memory of a memory. In splendid silken
raiment had Madelon's mother gone as a bride years ago. It had been
in reality widely different from this gown of Madelon's, but still,
looking at this, David Hautville's masculine eyes saw dimly beyond it
another dapple of gorgeous tints, and heard a soft rustle of silken
skirts out of the past. He would not have said that this bright mass
of silk in the chair made him think of his wife's wedding-gown, but
he knew by that thought it was Madelon's. He stared at it, scowling
over his great mustache. Then he looked slowly around at his
daughter. She was just coming out of the pantry, and faced him as he
spoke.

"I suppose this is true I've heard," said he.

Madelon's face blazed red before his eyes, but her mouth was firm and
hard, and her eyes unflinching. "Yes, sir," she replied; and she took
a dish from the table and turned about, and went again into the
pantry, carrying it.

David Hautville, rearing his great height before the fire, casting a
long shadow over the room, stood, holding his unlighted pipe, and
staring again at the wedding-silk, until his daughter returned. Then
he brought his gaze to bear upon her again.

"I suppose you've thought over what you're going to do, and feel it's
for the best," said he, with a kind of stern embarrassment. David
Hautville felt no resentment because his daughter had not confided
her engagement to him. From his very lack of understanding of the
feminine character, and his bewilderment over it, he was disposed to
give his daughter a wide latitude in a matter of this kind. Not
comprehending the feminine gait to matrimony, but recognizing its
inevitability, he was inclined to stand silently out of the road,
unless his prejudices were too violently shocked. He had also a mild
respect for, and understanding of, reticence concerning one's own
affairs, and was, moreover, furtively satisfied with the match.

"Yes, I have," answered Madelon, calmly.

"How soon were you calculating--" asked her father, pressing the
tobacco harder into the pipe-bowl, and casting a meditative eye at
the coals.

"He said a month--that was three weeks ago Monday. To-day is
Wednes