ood luck, this day.

The next window which attracted the young man's eye, was one which
displayed just such a dress as he had vaguely pictured yesterday, for a
dear companion on the terrace. It was white, of course; and he was not
sure, but he thought it was made of cloth. Anyway there was a lot of
embroidery on it, full of little holes, which somehow contrived to be
extraordinarily fetching. It had a mantle which hung in soft folds,
marvellously intricate, yet simple in effect; and he could have fallen
upon the neck of the stout, powdered lady in black silk who assured him
that the costume could be worn without alteration by any "_dame de jolie
taille_."

He bought it instantly, and then seized upon precisely such a "long
white thing" of ermine as he had seen in his mind's eye. A "granny" muff
went with it. (Really the people of the shop must have had prophetic
souls!) And there was a white hat, with a gold buckle and a long white
ostrich feather which looked as if it had been born to shade the face of
Evelyn Clifford.

When these "confections" had been secured, Madame of the black satin and
powdered nose assured Monsieur that his Christmas purchases would be
incomplete without a certain blouse which, to an untutored eye, appeared
to be a combination of sea-foam and rose-leaves. There was a belt, too,
crusted with seed pearls; and a hanging bag to match. Oh, certainly
Monsieur would take these, and anything else which Madame could
conscientiously recommend. She could, and did, recommend several other
things; and no doubt it was a mere coincidence that they happened to be
among the most expensive in the shop. She also won Hugh's gratitude by
being able to produce a coat and a frock in which a little girl of five,
already beautiful, would be more akin to fairyhood than ordinary
childhood, and might become the "exception that would prove the rule" to
an unbelieving Jane.

The cloak was pale blue; and another shop had to be searched for a hat
to be worn with it, but Madame was most kind in directing Monsieur where
to find one. Her sister would serve him, therefore he would be well
served.

On the way, he passed a jeweller's; and exactly the right string of
pearls, and the right "swallow brooch" stared him in the face, in the
window. It was odd, how all the prettiest things in the world, of
whatever description, looked as if they ought to belong to Evelyn and
Rosemary Clifford. There was a gold bag, too; but that was