on in
the glass and under the influence of her companion's magnetism and
enthusiasm, began to be imbued with something of the spirit of the
occasion and to enjoy seeing herself adorned with these beautiful
garments, which so enhanced her beauty.

When everything was done, madam stood back to look at her work, and
uttered an exclamation of delight.

"Oh! you are simply perfect, Edith!" she said. "You are just too
lovely for anything! Miss Kerby would not have made nearly so
beautiful a bride, and--and--I could almost wish that you were really
going to be married."

"Oh, no!" cried the fair girl, shrinking back from the strange gleam
that shone from the woman's eyes, as she made this remark, while her
thoughts flew, with the speed of light and with a yearning so intense
that it turned her white as snow, to Royal Bryant, the man to whom,
all unasked, she had given her heart.

Then, as if some instinct had accused her of unmaidenly presumption, a
flush, that was like the rosy dawn upon the eastern sky, suffused her
fair face, neck, and bosom.

"Ha! ha! not if you could marry the man of your choice?" queried
madam, with a gleam of malice in her dark eyes and a strange note of
triumph in her silvery laugh that again caused her companion to regard
her curiously.

"Oh! please do not jest about it in this light way--marriage is too
sacred to be treated with levity," said Edith, in a tremulous tone.
"But where is the mask?" she added, glancing anxiously toward the bed.
"You know you said the face of the bride was not to be seen."

"Here it is," responded madam, snatching the dainty thing from the
bed. "See! it goes on under the veil, like this"--and she dextrously
slipped the silver-fringed piece of gauze beneath the edge of the veil
and fastened the chain under the orange-wreath behind.

The fringe fell just to Edith's chin, thus effectually concealing her
features, while it was not thick enough to prevent her seeing,
distinctly, everything about her.

A few other details were attended to, and then Mrs. Goddard hurriedly
said:

"Come, now, we must hasten," and she gathered up the voluminous train
and laid it carefully over Edith's arm. "We shall have to go the back
way, through the billiard-room, because no one must see you until you
appear upon the stage."

The carriage-house adjoined the mansion, and was connected with it by
a door, at the end of a hall, that opened into a large room over it
which had been devo