Charlotte stepped before the glass and adjusted the bonnet to her
head. She tied the strings carefully under her chin in a great square
bow; then she turned towards Rose. The fine white wreath under the
brim encircled her face like a nimbus; she looked as she might have
done sitting a bride in the meeting-house.

"It's beautiful," Rose said, smiling, with grave eyes. "You look real
handsome in it, Charlotte." Charlotte stood motionless a moment, with
Rose surveying her.

"Oh, Charlotte," Rose cried out, suddenly, "I don't believe but what
you'll have him, after all!" Rose's eyes were sharp upon Charlotte's
face. It was as if the bridal robes, which were so evident, became
suddenly proofs of something tangible and real, like a garment left
by a ghost. Rose felt a sudden conviction that the quarrel was but a
temporary thing; that Charlotte would marry Barney, and that she knew
it.

A change came over Charlotte's face. She began untying the bonnet
strings.

"Sha'n't you?" repeated Rose, breathlessly.

"No, I sha'n't."

Charlotte took the bonnet off and smoothed the creases carefully out
of the strings.

"If I were you," Rose cried out, "I'd feel like tearing that bonnet
to pieces!"