She was much delighted with his laugh--though she thought it had a
rather cracked, harsh sound. She knew he was an important person
and she always felt she was being a success when people laughed.

"Exquisite!" he said. "I shall never see you in the future without
it. But wouldn't it be necessary to vary the colour at times?"

"Oh! Yes--to match things," seriously. "I couldn't wear a pink and
blue one with this--" glancing over the smoky mousey thing "--or
paillettes."

"Oh, no--not paillettes," he agreed almost with gravity, the harsh
laugh having ended.

"One couldn't imagine the exact colour in a moment. One would have
to think," she reflected. "Perhaps a misty dim bluey thing--like
the edge of a rain-cloud--scarcely a colour at all."

For an instant her eyes were softly shadowed as if looking into
a dream. He watched her fixedly then. A woman who was a sort of
angel might look like that when she was asking herself how much
her pure soul might dare to pray for. Then he laughed again and
Feather laughed also.

Many practical thoughts had already begun to follow each other
hastily through her mind. It would be the best possible thing
for them if he really admired her. Bob was having all sorts of
trouble with people they owed money to. Bills were sent in again
and again and disagreeable letters were written. Her dressmaker
and milliner had given her most rude hints which could indeed