trangest thing in the world.

"You are very beautiful, little daughter," father said. "I almost wish
I was going with you to see the sensation you are sure to create."

Then straight into his lap climbed Katy--father's lap--where none of us
ever sat, I am sure, and began to coax him to go, telling him she should
appear better if he were there, and that she should need him when
Wilford left her, as of course he must a part of the time. And father
actually dressed himself and went. But Katy did not need him after the
people began to understand that Mrs. Wilford Cameron was the rage. Even
Sybil Grey, in her palmiest days, never received such homage as was paid
to the little Silverton girl, whose great charm was her perfect
enjoyment of everything, and her perfect faith in what people said to
her. Juno was nothing, and I worse than nothing, for I did go, wearing
a plain black silk, with high neck and long sleeves, looking, as Juno
said, like a Sister of Charity. But Bell Cameron can afford to dress
plainly if she chooses, and I am glad, as it saves a deal of trouble,
and somehow people seem to like me quite as well in my Quakerish dress
as they do the fashionable Juno in diamonds and flowers, with uncovered
neck and shoulders.

Lieutenant Bob was there; his light hair lighter than ever, and his
chin as smooth as my hand. He likes to dance, and I do not, but somehow
he persisted in staying where I was, notwithstanding that I said my
sharpest things in hopes to get rid of him. He left me at last to
dance with Katy, who makes up in grace and airiness what she lacks in
knowledge. Once upon the floor, she did not lack for partners, but, I
verily believe, danced every set, growing prettier and fairer as she
danced, for hers is a complexion which does not get red and blowsy with
exercise.

Mark Ray was there, too, and I saw him smile comically when Katy met the
people with that bow she was making at the time he came so suddenly upon
us. Mark is a good fellow, and I really think we have him to thank in a
measure for Katy's successful _debut_. He was the first to take her from
Wilford, walking with her up and down the hall by way of reassuring her,
and once as they passed me I heard her say:

"I feel so timid here--so much afraid of doing something
wrong--something countrified."

"Never mind," he answered. "Act yourself just as you would were you
at home in Silverton, where you are known. That is far better than
affecting a m