he bustle about the precious thing they
were unwrapping from swathes of tissue paper. "Be careful, dear," the
elder woman kept saying, "there's a pin here." Or "Don't hurry, or
you'll have the pleats out of place." And Marie's hands trembled over
their task. When all the paper was removed, Mrs. Amber said
importantly, "Now just lift it up; give it to me like that; I'll carry
it in," but Marie cried: "No, I will," and she threw the gown over her
shoulder till her head emerged as from the froth of sea waves, and ran
into the sitting-room with it.

Mrs. Amber's eyes were moist with pride. "It's a beautiful dress," she
said to Osborn, who had turned eagerly after his girl; "I want her to
look sweet. Here, wouldn't you like to take something? Here's the
shoes; I've got the stockings. Wouldn't you like to carry the shoes?"

Marie was spreading out the gown on the chesterfield from which Julia
and Desmond had risen to make room for it. Mrs. Amber laid the silk
stockings reverently near and Osborn dangled his burden, saying gaily:
"And here are Mrs. Kerr's slippers."

Rokeby stood back, observing. "It's all out of my line," he said, "but
don't think I'm not respectful; I am. What's more, I'm fairly dazzled.
I think I'll have to get married."

"You might do worse, old man," replied Osborn joyfully.

Rokeby lighted another cigarette. He looked around the room and at the
people in it. He had been familiar with many such interiors and
situations, being the kind of man who officiated at weddings but never
in the principal part. "Poor old Osborn!" he thought. "Another good man
down and out!" He looked at the girl, decked by Art and Nature for her
natural conquest. He did not wonder how long her radiance would endure;
he thought he knew. He entertained himself by tracing the likeness to
her mother, and the mother's slimness had thickened, and her shoulders
rounded; her eyes were tired, a little dour; they looked out without
enthusiasm at the world, except when they rested upon her daughter.
Then they became rather like the eyes of Marie looking at her wedding
gown.

* * * * *

Osborn took Marie's head between his hands, and kissed her eyes and
mouth. "That's for good night," he whispered; "Rokeby and I are going
home. You are the sweetest thing, and I shall dream of you all night.
Promise to dream of me."

"It's a certainty."

"It is?" said the young man rapturously. "I am simply _too_ happy,