"I wonder if she wears a round hat or a bonnet in
the afternoon," Janey speculated. "At the Opera I know
she had on dark blue velvet, perfectly plain and flat--
like a night-gown."

"Janey!" said her mother; and Miss Archer blushed
and tried to look audacious.

"It was, at any rate, in better taste not to go to the
ball," Mrs. Archer continued.

A spirit of perversity moved her son to rejoin: "I
don't think it was a question of taste with her. May
said she meant to go, and then decided that the dress in
question wasn't smart enough."

Mrs. Archer smiled at this confirmation of her
inference. "Poor Ellen," she simply remarked; adding
compassionately: "We must always bear in mind what an
eccentric bringing-up Medora Manson gave her. What
can you expect of a girl who was allowed to wear
black satin at her coming-out ball?"

"Ah--don't I remember her in it!" said Mr. Jackson;
adding: "Poor girl!" in the tone of one who, while
enjoying the memory, had fully understood at the time
what the sight portended.

"It's odd," Janey remarked, "that she should have
kept such an ugly name as Ellen. I should have changed