oth and Sunday hats.

Of all who had gathered for the dance there was none more highly placed
than Miss Flora Le Pettit, and none as fair to see. She stood supreme in
the sunshine and her beauty, her white muslin robes swelling round her
like the petals of some full-blown rose, her white sash streaming over
them, the white ribands that decked her hat of fine Dunstable straw
flowing down to her shoulders and mingling with her auburn curls. Even
the countless tiny bows that adorned her dress (as though they were a
cloud of butterflies drawn to alight upon it by its freshness) were of
white satin. Everything about her save her little sandalled feet danced
already--the brim of the wide hat that waved above her dancing eyes, the
flounces and floating ends of her attire which the soft breeze stirred,
the corners of her smiling mouth, the dimple which came and went behind
the curls that nodded by her cheek. What vision can have been fairer
than that presented by Flora Le Pettit upon Flora Day? "None, none,
none," thought eager Loveday, as she edged through the crowd and caught
sight of her divinity. None ... and yet that sight caused Loveday a
strange clutching in her breast.

For she, too, had felt fair when she had gazed in her tiny mirror; the
yellowed linen gown had gleamed pure and white, her young breast had
swelled above the waist that looked so slim, and that was so finely
girt.... Yet, now, something of splendour about Miss Le Pettit that
she could not attain dimmed all herself and, with herself, her joy.
Her face, already flushed by her walk, burned deeper still with shame.
Yet the desire that three weeks of striving had swollen to a passion
urged her forward, and, fingering the lovely thing about her waist to
gain courage, she broke through the last ring of staring people and
stood in front of Miss Le Pettit.

The heiress of Ignores had not yet caught sight of her, being engaged in
laughing conversation with several admiring gentlemen, but something of
an almost painful intensity in the dark gaze of the village girl drew
her face to meet it. The black eyes, so full of an extravagant passion,
met the careless glance of the blue orbs that knew not even the passing
shadow of such a thing.

"Oh," stammered Loveday, the set speech she had been conning all the way
to Bugletown dying upon her lips, "Oh, Miss Flora, I'm come. I've got my
white sash and I'm come...."

Over Flora's face passed a look of bewilderment, whi