reasonably so, that we should wait until the twenty-third of May, but I
don't see why we should have the whole town waiting with us. Why don't
you assert yourself, dear, before it is too late? Once she pulls off
this announcement party, it's all off with peace of mind and contentment
so far as we are concerned. Of course, she'll be enjoying it, but what
of us? Are you afraid of her?"

"Don't bully me, Hugh," she pleaded. He was contrite at once and
properly so. "She has lived for this time in her life. She never has
been crossed. I can't--honestly I can't go to her now and--quarrel.
That's what it would mean--a quarrel. She would never give in."

"Well, then, all hope is lost," he lamented. For some minutes Miss
Vernon gave no response, sitting upon the arm of the chair, a perplexed
pucker on her brow and a thoughtful swing to her slippered foot.

These young people had known each other since earliest childhood. They
had played together with the same neighborly toys and they had grown up
together with the same neighborly ideals. Both had whirled in the social
swing until the sensation palled. The most exclusive set in town
regarded them as among its most popular members. It was quite natural
that their wedding should be the most brilliant and fashionable of the
year. Their position in society demanded the sacrifice, and her aunt saw
the urgent need for making it, notwithstanding the opposition of the
young people themselves.

Ridgeway was a couple of years older than his affianced bride, and she
was just short of twenty-three. She, an orphan since early childhood,
lived with her widowed aunt--the social gourmand, to quote Hugh
Ridgeway--and he made his home next door with his sister and her