ne, a year out of college, and during that year having
sorely missed the many gayeties of the life she had known for four happy
years, the present experience was delightful. She enjoyed every minute
of the swift drive over the sixty miles to her cousin's home, enjoyed
the arrival there, the meeting with the family and their house guests
assembled for afternoon tea, the installment in a luxuriously furnished
room where Jeannette presently brought her an armful of gowns to choose
from for the evening. A small dinner was to precede the dance, and all
sorts of scheming for Georgiana's pleasure had been fermenting in
Jeannette's brain on the way home.

"I've arranged with Rosalie to put you next her special prize--the most
wonderful man she knows. All her set are crazy over him, though he
belongs in ours fast enough. It's Miles Channing, just home after a
year's travel, and as good looking as any illustrator ever drew. You see
you simply must be your most brilliant self. And here's the way to do
it--wear this!"

She held up before Georgiana's disconcerted gaze such a marvel of colour
and cunning as brought a gasp of astonishment and a quick denial: "Oh,
my dear! Not that--for me. It's bad enough to wear your things at all,
but don't give me something that will make everybody look at me, like
that!"

"That's precisely what I want," laughed Jeannette. "And this is a thing
I haven't ventured to wear and never shall, though I'm wild to do it.
But I couldn't carry it off; you can. Those orange shades will be
glorious with your eyes and hair. Besides, as for making you conspicuous
above the rest, on account of any gorgeousness of colour or eccentricity
of style, it simply can't be done these days. So put this on and see for
yourself. You needn't wear it, of course, if you don't like it; but you
will."

Reluctantly Georgiana allowed a slim French maid to slip the marvel of
her country's art over the bared shoulders, and the next minute she was
staring at herself in a long mirror, while Susette clasped her hands,
and gay young Rosalie, passing the door at the moment and summoned to
the private view, cried joyously:

"Oh, Georgiana, you're perfectly stunning! Of course you must wear it,
and you'll be the star of the evening."

Rosalie rushed on, having settled the questions out of hand, after the
manner of the youthful. Jeannette was laughing as she called her mother
in to confirm the decision.

Mrs. Crofton, languidly inter