There came, at last, an hour before the wedding, a lull in the feverish

activities of the previous month. Everything was ready. In the Lorenz

kitchen, piles of plates, negro waiters, ice-cream freezers, and Mrs.

Rosenfeld stood in orderly array. In the attic, in the center of a sheet,

before a toilet-table which had been carried upstairs for her benefit, sat,

on this her day of days, the bride. All the second story had been prepared

for guests and presents.

Florists were still busy in the room below. Bridesmaids were clustered on

the little staircase, bending over at each new ring of the bell and calling

reports to Christine through the closed door:-"Another wooden box, Christine. It looks like more plates. What will you

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ever do with them all?"

"Good Heavens! Here's another of the neighbors who wants to see how you

look. Do say you can't have any visitors now."

Christine sat alone in the center of her sheet. The bridesmaids had been

sternly forbidden to come into her room.

"I haven't had a chance to think for a month," she said. "And I've got

some things I've got to think out."

But, when Sidney came, she sent for her. Sidney found her sitting on a

stiff chair, in her wedding gown, with her veil spread out on a small

stand.

"Close the door," said Christine. And, after Sidney had kissed her:-"I've a good mind not to do it."

"You're tired and nervous, that's all."

"I am, of course. But that isn't what's wrong with me. Throw that veil

some place and sit down."

Christine was undoubtedly rouged, a very delicate touch. Sidney thought

brides should be rather pale. But under her eyes were lines that Sidney

had never seen there before.

"I'm not going to be foolish, Sidney. I'll go through with it, of course.

It would put mamma in her grave if I made a scene now."

She suddenly turned on Sidney.

"Palmer gave his bachelor dinner at the Country Club last night. They all

drank more than they should. Somebody called father up to-day and said

that Palmer had emptied a bottle of wine into the piano. He hasn't been

here to-day."

"He'll be along. And as for the other--perhaps it wasn't Palmer who did

it."

"That's not it, Sidney. I'm frightened."

Three months before, perhaps, Sidney could not have comforted her; but

three months had made a change in Sidney. The complacent sophistries of

her girlhood no longer answered for truth. She put her arms around

Christine's shoulders.




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