and violins stole pleasantly through the flower-scented rooms, which
were softly lighted with shaded lamps the like of which Brookville
had never seen before.

Mrs. Solomon Black, arrayed in a crisp blue taffeta, came bustling to
meet them. But not before Fanny's swift gaze had penetrated the
assembled guests. Yes! there was Wesley Elliot's tall figure. He was
talking to Mrs. Henry Daggett at the far end of the double parlors.

"Go right up stairs and lay off your things," urged their hostess
hospitably. "Ladies to the right; gents to the left. I'm so glad you
came, Fanny. I'd begun to wonder--"

The girl's lip curled haughtily. The slight emphasis on the personal
pronoun and the fervid squeeze of Mrs. Black's fat hand hurt her sore
heart. But she smiled brilliantly.

"Thank you, Mrs. Black, I wouldn't have missed it for worlds!" she
said coldly.




Chapter VII


"Does my hair look decent?" asked Ellen, as the two girls peered into
the mirror together. "The dew does take the curl out so. It must be
lovely to have naturally curly hair, like yours, Fanny. It looks all
the prettier for being damp and ruffled up."