unimpaired enthusiasm, of the good things that they fondly believed
might never have reached their present point of perfection had it not
been for their skill.

"Should you think," Elizabeth paused to say, in a somewhat muffled
voice, entirely owing to plum cake and not grief, "that one of us is
married too?"

"My father," returned Nan loftily, "is not given to making mistakes of
that kind. There weren't husbands enough to go 'round anyway."

"What is a husband?"

"You've been helping make one, child, and you ask that!"

So Elizabeth concluded it was a small portion of the refreshments that
had escaped her notice.

Afterwards they went down to the harbor from which the bride and groom
were to sail.

"Like the owl and the pussy cat," said Ethelwyn, cheerfully.

As they kissed their friend good-bye, they placed around her neck a
pretty chain, hanging from which was a medallion with their pictures
painted on it.

"You can look at us when you get lonesome," suggested Beth.

The last good-bye was said, and they drove sadly home in a fine,