well."

Warble was simply attired in a white pussy-willow silk underslip. In her
haste and excitement she had forgotten to add the gown meant to go over
it, and as she wore no jewels save the chased gold lingerie clasps at her
shoulders, the result was a simplicity as charming as it was unintentional.

And so she made a hit.

That was the way things came to Warble; a hit--a social success--and all
because she forgot to put on her frock.

She mingled with the glittering throng of gilded youth, of golden lads
and girls, of gilt-edged married people, and found herself in the arms of
Goldwin Leathersham, her host.

"Here comes the bride," he shouted, as he piloted her about and introduced
everybody to her.

"This demure little beauty," he said, "is Daisy Snow. Note her sweet, pure
face and wide-eyed, innocent gaze."

"It is all so new--so wonderful--" Miss Snow breathed, "I'm a debutante,
you know, and I have scarcely butterflied out of my chrysalis yet. How
splendid the Leathershams are. He has a heart of gold. Oh, he is such
a good man, he says his life motto is the Golden Rule." "And Mrs.
Leathersham?" asked Warble.

"Marigold? Oh, yes, she's as good as gold, too. We're firm friends."