The beautiful Mrs. Gregory made her first appearance in society,
after the birth of her second son, on the occasion of Miss Leila
Buckney's marriage to Mr. Parker Hoyt. The continual postponement
of this event had been a standing joke among their friends for two
or three years; it took place in early December, at the most
fashionable of all the churches, with a reception and supper to
follow at the most fashionable of all the hotels. Leila naturally
looked tired and excited; she had made a gallant fight for her
lover, for long years, and she had won, but as yet the returning
tide of comfort and satisfaction had not begun in her life. Parker
had been a trying fiance; he was a cool-blooded, fishlike little
man; there had been other complications: her father's heavy
financial losses, her mother's discontent in the lingering
engagement, her sister's persisting state of unmarriedness.

However, the old aunt was at last dead. Parker had dutifully gone
to her side toward the end, and had returned again, duly, bringing
the casket, and escorting Miss Clay. And now Mamma was dressed,
and Edith was in a hideously unbecoming green and silver gown, and
the five bridesmaids were duly hatted and frocked in green and
silver, and she was dressed, too, realizing that her new corsets
were a trifle small, and her lace veil too heavy.

And the disgusting caterer had come to some last-moment agreement
with Papa whereby they were to have the supper without protest,
and the florist's insolent man had consented to send the bouquets
at last. The fifteen hundred dreadful envelopes were all
addressed, the back-breaking trying-on of gowns was over, the