He spoke with the sense of the inimical in life that all lovers feel.

'But things will have to be bought,' she said helplessly, 'and things
will have to be made.'

'There is plenty of time, several weeks yet. Won't you,' he suggested
tactfully, 'see after Hazel's clothes for her? She is too poor to buy
them herself. Won't you lay out a sum of money for me mother?'

'Yes, I think,' she said, beginning to recover her benignity--'I think
I could lay out a sum of money.'

* * * * *

Mrs. Marston had what she called 'not a wink of sleep'--that is to say,
she kept awake for half an hour after getting into bed. The idea of a
wedding, although it was offensive by reason of being different from
every day, was still quite pleasant. It would be an opportunity for
using the multitude of things that were stored in every cupboard and
never used, being thought too good for every day. Mrs. Marston was one
of those that, having great possessions, go sadly all their days. It is
strange how generation after generation spends its fleeting years in
this fetish-worship, never daring to make life beautiful by the daily
use of things lovely, but for ever being busy about them.

Mrs. Marston's china glowed so, and was so stainless and uncracked that
it seemed as if the lives of all the beautiful young women in her
family must have been sacrificed in its behalf.

They had all drunk of the cup of death long ago, and their beauty had