of the face!

"All of us in veils and masks will have to take them off at one."

"Yes, there'll be the rub," said Damaris, as she knelt down beside the
perplexed, growling bulldog.

"Don't know Missie? Don't love her?"

"Woomph!" replied Wellington, hurling his great weight into her lap.

"How he loves you, Maris!"

"Yes, miss, he does," broke in Jane Coop. "And I firmly believe he's
my mistress's guardian angel."

"After you, Janie dear," said the girl, smiling fondly up at the plump
maid and tying a huge crimson bow round the neck of the long-suffering
animal.

"What is he going as, Maris?"

"A gargle, miss," broke in the maid. "I think it's just fun on the
part of Miss Damaris, because nothing as solid as him,"--pointing of
comb to shamed dog--"could go as anything watery."

Damaris got to her feet.

"Let's go in to _Marraine_," she choked. "Gargoyle, my dear," she
whispered, "is what she meant--gargoyle. Do come along!"