ne, Martha looked about her, and her mouth was
frankly wide open. She had never seen such exquisite daintiness and
it daunted her, although she would have died rather than admit it.
She thought of her own bedroom at home in East Mordan, Illinois, with
its old black walnut chamber set and framed photographs and chromos,
but she maintained a sort of defiant pride in it even to herself. In
Martha Wallingford's character there was an element partaking of the
nature of whalebone, yielding, but practically unbreakable, and
sometimes wholly unyielding. Martha proceeded to array herself for
dinner. She had not a doubt that it would be a grand affair. She
therefore did not hesitate about the white silk, which was a robe of
such splendour that it might not have disgraced a court. It showed a
great deal of her thin, yet pretty girlish neck, and it had a very
long train. She had a gold fillet studded with diamonds for her
hair--that hair which was now dressed according to the very latest
mode--a mode which was startling, yet becoming, and she clasped
around her throat the Tiffany necklace, and as a crowning touch, put
on long white gloves. When she appeared upon the verandah where
Margaret sat dressed in a pretty lingerie gown with Wilbur in a light
grey business suit, the silence could be heard. Then there was one
double gasp of admiration from Maida and Adelaide in their white
frocks and blue ribbons. They looked at the visitor with positive
adoration, but she flushed hotly. She was a very quick-witted girl.
Margaret recovered herself, presented Wilbur, and shortly, they went
in to dinner, but it was a ghastly meal. Martha Wallingford in her
unsuitable splendour was frankly, as she put it afterward, "hopping
mad," and Wilbur was unhappy and Margaret aghast, although apparently
quite cool. There was not a guest besides Martha. The dinner was
simple. Afterward it seemed too farcical to ask a guest attired like
a young princess to go out on the verandah and lounge in a wicker
chair, while Wilbur smoked. Then Annie Eustace appeared and Margaret
was grateful. "Dear Annie," she said, after she had introduced the
two girls, "I am so glad you came over. Come in."

"It is pleasanter on the verandah, isn't it?" began Annie, then she
caught Margaret's expressive glance at the magnificent white silk.
They all sat stiffly in Margaret's pretty drawing-room. Martha said
she didn't play bridge and upon Annie's timid suggestion of pinocle,
said