d her own opinion of Miss Bessy Dicky, of her sleeves, of her
gown, and her report, but she had faith in the truly decorative
features of the occasion when they should be underway, and she had
immense faith in Mrs. Sarah Joy Snyder. She was relieved when Miss
Bessy Dicky sat down, and endeavoured to compose her knees, which by
this time were trembling like her hands, and also to assume an
expression as if she had done nothing at all, and nobody was looking
at her. That last because of the fact that she had done so little,
and nobody was looking at her rendered her rather pathetic.

Miss Bessy Dicky did not glance at the minister, but she,
nevertheless, saw him. She had never had a lover, and here was the
hero of her dreams. He would never know it and nobody else would ever
know it, and no harm would be done except very possibly, by and by, a
laceration of the emotions of an elderly maiden, and afterwards a
life-long scar. But who goes through life without emotional scars?

After Miss Bessy Dicky sat down, Mrs. Wilbur Edes, the lady of the
silver bell, rose. She lifted high her delicate chin, her perfect
blond pompadour caught the light, her black lace robe swept round her
in rich darkness, with occasional revelations of flower and leaf, the
fairly poetical pattern of real lace. As she rose, she diffused
around her a perfume as if rose-leaves were stirred up. She held a
dainty handkerchief, edged with real lace, in her little left hand,
which glittered with rings. In her right, was a spangled fan like a
black butterfly. Mrs. Edes was past her first youth, but she was
undeniably charming. She was like a little, perfect, ivory toy, which
time has played with but has not injured. Mrs. Slade looked at her,
then at Karl von Rosen. He looked at Mrs. Wilbur Edes, then looked
away. She was most graceful, but most positively uninteresting.
However, Mrs. Slade was rather pleased at that. She and Mrs. Edes
were rival stars. Von Rosen had never looked long at her, and it
seemed right he should not look long at the other woman.

Mrs. Slade surveyed Mrs. Edes as she announced the next number on the
programme, and told herself that Mrs. Edes' gown might be real lace
and everything about her very real, and nice, and elegant, but she
was certainly a little fussy for so small a woman. Mrs. Slade
considered that she herself could have carried off that elegance in a
much more queenly manner. There was one feature of Mrs. Edes' costume
wh