is day of days to fit into the
background of the villa, as if some old master had let his most adored
brain child come tripping from a tarnished frame--a little lady in old
lace, as it were.

Beatrice had taken up a new activity since her father's stroke. At
first the stroke had frightened, then bored, then amused her. She
really liked having what she termed a "comfortable calamity" in the
family. It was something so new to plan for and talk about, such a
valid excuse if she did not wish to accept invitations, and an
excellent reason for runaway trips to Atlantic City or New York "to
get away from it all for a little--poor, dear papa."

So she sat with her father rather more than one would have expected,
made him listen to opera records which drove him to distraction,
talked to him of nothing, and tried to be a little sister to the
afflicted in a pink-satin and cream-lace setting.

She had lost her interest in Trudy--Trudy no longer amused or
frightened her. And Gay had become so useful and attentive that had
the truth about the raffle been known it would be the astonishing
information that as Beatrice donated the tie pin she decided she
should pick the future owner--and Gay was the logical candidate to her
way of thinking.

Also she was quite contented with Steve. He let her alone and he
adored her--she never doubted that. He wanted her to have everything
she wished--and that was the biggest, finest way to show one's love
for another. It was the only way that she had ever known existed. Of
course all brides have silly notions of perpetual adoration, that sort
of thing, and Steve was a cave man first and last, bless his old
heart, but they had passed any mid-channel which might exist and were
happy for all time to come. They seldom quarrelled, and she no longer
tried to make Steve over to her liking in small ways, and he seldom
offered her suggestions. Moreover, he was so good to her father--and
of course everything was as it should be. It was simply the rather
drab fashion in which most lives are lived, and Beatrice was quite
contented. She had never gotten another toy dog, not even as a
contrast to Tawny Adonis. Really, Gay answered a multitude of needs!

But Trudy was a real person--and a constant reminder of what Beatrice
herself might have been, and therefore Beatrice never ceased to envy
her or to picture how much better she could do were she in Trudy's
place. She preferred not having her about. Besides, Tru