rty to meet
the King and Queen, as Mrs. Ess Kay did for that Violet Tea; and I
daren't think even now--though it happened weeks ago--of the money she
must have spent.

For one thing, she and Sally and I had to have violet dresses. She
would buy mine (I don't see how I should have done it, if she hadn't,
especially as Vic wrote just then that Mother felt poorer than ever,
and That Man hadn't yet proposed), and it was beautiful; pale violet
silk muslin, trimmed with violets and their leaves. Then violet and
silver livery was ordered in a great hurry for the four footmen--to be
worn on one afternoon, and no more! But these things were mere sketchy
details, compared to other preparations.

One room, where tea was to be served, was entirely draped with violet
silk, from the palest to the darkest shades; and for the smaller of the
two drawing-rooms--the one where Mrs. Ess Kay would stand to receive
her guests--wire frames were made, from measurements, to fit and cover
all four walls. I couldn't imagine what these frames were for, at
first, but when their hour came, they were padded with moss and covered
with fresh violets. The curtains were taken down from the windows, and
a network of violets was hung up in their place, with an effect of
great loveliness when the light streamed through the screen of flowers.
And even this was not all, for a soft thick mat of grass and moss was
spread over the polished floor, with a sprinkling of violets. All the
furniture was taken away, and instead, along the walls, were placed
banks of artificial moss and violets. No doubt these would have been
real, too, but when crushed, they would have stained the dresses of
those that sat upon them. Altogether, the room was turned into a woodsy
bower of violets; and I was given a great bunch of the dear flowers to
carry.

There had been only a week in which to prepare these sensational
effects, but everything was finished in time, and without flurry.
Already I knew a great many of Mrs. Ess Kay's friends; and on the day
of the tea it seemed that each person whose acquaintance I had made had
remembered me with a cartwheel of violets. All my flowers were placed
in vases on tables in the big drawing-room, adjoining the bower of
violets; and as a card was attached to each bunch, pinned on the masses
of violet satin ribbon which trailed from it, each giver could have the
pleasure of seeing how his gift compared with his neighbour's. It was a
wonderful di