n
with Miss Gillespie in the inner drawing-room while Sara and Jill played
duets: of course our subject was Jill. Miss Gillespie spoke most warmly
of her excellent abilities and fine development of character. 'She will
be a very striking woman,' she finished, when the last chords were played
and a soft clapping of hands succeeded. 'Whether she will be a happy one
is more doubtful: she must not be thwarted too much, and she must have
room to expand. Jocelyn wants space and sunshine.'

I thought these remarks very sensible; they taught me that Miss Gillespie
had grasped the true idea of Jill's character. There was nothing little
about Jill: she never did things by halves: she either loved or hated.
She was truthful to a fault. There was a massive freedom and simplicity
about her that would guide her safely through the world's pitfalls.
'Space and sunshine,' that was all Jill needed to bring her to maturity
and fruition. Some girls may be trusted to educate themselves. Jill was
one of these.

The next morning Sara took possession of me. A great honour was to be
vouchsafed me: I was to be treated to a private view of the trousseau
and wedding-presents.

I had exhausted my vocabulary of admiring epithets, and sat in eloquent
silence, long before Sara had finished her display. It was like the
picture of Pandora opening her box, to see the pretty creature opening
the big, carved wardrobe to show me the layers of delicate embroidered
raiment, muslin and laces and jewels, curious trinkets and wonderful
gifts worthy of the Arabian Nights. There were two rooms full of
treasures that had been laid at her feet, and no doubt, like Pandora,
Sara had the rainbow-tinted hope lying amid the bridal gifts.

'This is Donald's present,' she said, smiling, showing me a diamond
spray. 'I am to wear it on Thursday: it is the loveliest present of
all,--though mother has given me that beautiful pearl necklace.'

'Wait a moment, Sara,' I said, detaining her as she closed the morocco
case: 'tell me, do you not feel like a princess in fairy-land, with all
this glitter round you? Does it all seem real, somehow?'

'Donald is real, anyhow,' she returned, with a charming blush. 'Nothing
would be real without him. Oh, Ursula, it is nice to be so happy! I
always have been happier than other girls.' And something like a tear
stole to her pretty eyes.

'Now you must see your own dress,' she continued, brushing off the tiny
tear-drop, with a laugh at