there she is to this day, poor creature."

"I didn't mean to startle you," said Evelina.

She sat down on the nearest chair, and as the lamp-light fell
on her face Ann Eliza saw that she had been crying.

"You do look dead-beat," Miss Mellins resumed, after a pause
of soul-probing scrutiny. "I guess Mr. Ramy lugs you round that
Square too often. You'll walk your legs off if you ain't careful.
Men don't never consider--they're all alike. Why, I had a cousin
once that was engaged to a book-agent--"

"Maybe we'd better put away the work for to-night, Miss
Mellins," Ann Eliza interposed. "I guess what Evelina wants is a
good night's rest."

"That's so," assented the dress-maker. "Have you got the back
breadths run together, Miss Bunner? Here's the sleeves. I'll pin
'em together." She drew a cluster of pins from her mouth, in which
she seemed to secrete them as squirrels stow away nuts. "There,"
she said, rolling up her work, "you go right away to bed, Miss
Evelina, and we'll set up a little later to-morrow night. I guess
you're a mite nervous, ain't you? I know when my turn comes I'll
be scared to death."

With this arch forecast she withdrew, and Ann Eliza, returning
to the back room, found Evelina still listlessly seated by the
table. True to her new policy of silence, the elder sister set
about folding up the bridal dress; but suddenly Evelina said in a