older sister than her mother.

"Ruth's gown for this evening," she announced, deftly unfolding the
wrappings.

"Yellow!" exclaimed Mrs. Lewis, in surprise.

"Corn-color," corrected Mrs. Levice, playfully; "how do you think it will
suit my girlie?" She continued, shaking out the clinging silken crepe.

"Charmingly; but I thought Ruth objected to anything but white."

"So she does; she thinks white keeps her unnoticed among the rest. This
time, however, my will overrode hers. Eh, Daughter?"

The girl made a low courtesy.

"I am only lady-in-waiting to your Majesty, O Queen," she laughed. She had
hardly glanced at the gown, being engaged in a silent scrutiny of her
mother's face.

"And how is my prime minister this afternoon?" Mrs. Levice was drawing off
her gloves, and Ruth's look of pained discovery passed unnoticed.

"I have not been down since luncheon," she replied.

"What! Then go down at once and bring him up. I must see that he gets out
of his studiousness and is clothed in festive mind for this evening. Come
to my sitting-room, Jennie, and we can have a comfortable chat."