his own spirit of yielding made it impossible for him to realise the
situation. Obedience had been little Annie Eustace's first lesson
taught by the trio, who to her represented all government, in her
individual case.

Annie Eustace obeyed her aunts, and grandmother (her father had been
dead for several years), but she loved only three,--two were women,
Margaret Edes and Alice Mendon; the other was a man, and the love was
not confessed to her own heart.

This afternoon Annie wore an ugly green gown, which was, moreover,
badly cut. The sleeves were too long below the elbow, and too short
above, and every time she moved an arm they hitched uncomfortably.
The neck arrangement was exceedingly unbecoming, and the skirt not
well hung. The green was of the particular shade which made her look
yellow. As she sat beside Margaret and embroidered assiduously, and
very unskilfully, some daisies on a linen centre-piece, the other
woman eyed her critically.

"You should not wear that shade of green, if you will excuse my
saying so, dear," she remarked presently.

Annie regarded her with a charming, loving smile. She would have
excused her idol for saying anything. "I know it is not very
becoming," she agreed sweetly.

"Becoming," said Margaret a trifle viciously. She was so out of sorts
about her failure to secure Lydia Greenway that she felt a great
relief in attacking little Annie Eustace.