t you almost forgot that it was only a church festival.

A big moon rose up from behind the church-tower, a beautiful and
medieval-looking combination. Missy thought of those olden-time feasts
"unto kings and dukes," when there was revel and play, and "all
manner of noblesse." And, though none but her suspected it, the
little white-covered tables became long, rough-hewn boards, and the
Congregational ladies' loaned china became antique-looking pewter, and
the tumblers of water were golden flaskets of noble wine. Missy, who was
helping Aunt Isabel serve at one of the tables, attended her worshipful
patrons with all manner of noblesse. She was glad she was wearing her
best pink mull with the brocaded sash.

Aunt Isabel's table was well patronized. It seemed to Missy that most of
the men present tried to get "served" here. Perhaps it was because they
admired Aunt Isabel. Missy couldn't have blamed them for that, because
none of the other Congregational ladies was half as pretty. To-night
Aunt Isabel had on a billowy pale-blue organdy, and she looked more like
an angel than ever. An ethereally radiant, laughing, vivacious angel.
And whenever she moved near you, you caught a ghostly whiff of that
delicious perfume. (Missy now knows Aunt Isabel got it from little
sachet bags, tucked away with her clothes, and from an "atomizer" which
showered a delicate, fairy-like spray of fragrance upon her hair.) There
was one young man, who was handsome in a dark, imperious way, who hung
about and ate so much ice-cream that Missy feared lest he should have an
"upset" to-morrow.

Also, there was another persevering patron for whom she surmised, with
modest palpitation, Aunt Isabel might not be the chief attraction. The
joy of being a visiting girl was begun! This individual was a
talkative, self-confident youth named Raleigh Peters. She loved the name
Raleigh--though for the Peters part she didn't care so much. And albeit,
with the dignity which became her advancing years, she addressed him as
"Mr. Peters," in her mind she preferred to think of him as "Raleigh."
Raleigh, she learned (from himself), was the only son of a widowed
mother and, though but little older than Missy, had already started
making his own way by clerking in Uncle Charlie's store. He clerked
in the grocery department, the prosperity of which, she gathered, was
largely due to his own connection with it. Some day, he admitted, he was
going to own the biggest grocery sto