e most romantic thing he'd ever heard in his life;
that Louise's marriage was nothing to it."

"But about the suit-case," they prompted. "Didn't you do anything more?"

"Uncle Tom telephoned again in the morning, and the station agent said
he'd got the party on the wire as had the young lady's case. And he was
coming back here in two days, and I was to leave his suit-case with the
baggage man at the station, and he would leave mine."

"But you didn't leave it."

"I came on the other road. I'm going to send it down."

"And what did you wear at the wedding?"

"Louise's clothes. It didn't matter a bit, my not matching the other
bridesmaids, because I was maid of honor, and ought to dress differently
anyway. I've been grown up for three days--and I just wish Miss Lord
could have seen me with my hair on the top of my head talking to men!"

"Did you tell the Dowager?"

"Yes, I told her about getting the wrong suit-case; I didn't mention the
fact that it belonged to the third man from the end."

"What did she say?"

"She said it was very careless of me to run off with a strange man's
luggage; and she hoped he was a gentleman and would take it nicely. She
telephoned to the baggage man that it was here, but she couldn't send
Martin with it this afternoon because he had to go to the farm for some
eggs."

Recreation was over, and the girls came trooping in to gather books and
pads and pencils for the approaching study hour. Everyone who passed
number Seven dropped in to hear the news. Each in turn received the
story of the suit-case, and each in turn gasped anew at sight of the
contents.

"Doesn't it smell tobaccoey and bay rummish?" said Rosalie Patton,
sniffing.

"Oh, there's a button loose!" cried Florence Hissop, the careful
housewife. "Where's some black silk, Patty?"

She threaded a needle and secured the button. Then she daringly tried on
the coat. Eight others followed her example and thrilled at the touch.
It was calculated to fit a far larger person than any present. Even
Irene McCullough found it baggy.

"He had awfully broad shoulders," said Rosalie, stroking the satin
lining.

They peered daintily at the other garments.

"Oh!" squealed Mae Mertelle. "He wears blue silk suspenders."

"And something else blue," chirped Edna Hartwell, peering over her
shoulder. "They're pajamas!"

"And to think of such a thing happening to Patty!" sighed Mae Mertelle.

"Why not?" bristled Patty.

"You're so yo