these intimate revelations; "you guessed right."

"Well, we worked along fairly for a year or two, and finally I said to
Granger: 'Now, what's the use of inventing things and taking them to
those companies and making everybody rich but yourself? You pick out some
one road, and get on the inside of that, and stick there, and--The fact
is," she broke off suddenly, "you can't judge at all of this room in the
daytime. You must see it lighted and filled with people. You ought
to have been here at the _bal poudre_ I gave last season--lots of pretty
girls in laces and brocades, and powder on their hair. It was a lovely
sight."

"It must have been. I believe Rosy would have looked real pretty fixed up
that way."

"Rosy?"

"Our youngest; she's eighteen."

"Is she out?"

"Not quite; but I expect she's on the way."

"Is she pretty?"

"Yes," replied the just Jane. "Yes, Rosy is quite pretty. She's dark. She
would look lovely in yellow tulle--with a red rose somewhere."

"Is she clever?"