“I would have willingly filled you up a check with the cost of the floral decorations, Marion,” said her father with a twinkle in his eye.  “They would have purchased a good many bags of corn.”

“But that is ridiculous!” said Isabelle.  “What would a reception be without flowers, I should like to know?  As it is, I expect it will be a poor affair compared to the Van Nuys’ last week.  We never seem to be able to do anything in proper style.  You would better put your new Worth gown, on the collection plate, Marion, and appear in a morning dress to-morrow night.  Louis would be the first one to be scandalized if you did!”

“Well but, Isabelle, I had to have something now.  I have worn my other dresses so many times, I am perfectly ashamed.”

“Of course, sis,” said Louis gravely, “it was a most imperative expenditure.  It is a strange coincidence that you should have chosen that particular make though.  It has always been a fancy of mine that the Levite was robed in a Worth gown when he passed by on the other side.”

“The sufferings must be awful,” said Evadne, anxious to relieve Marion’s embarrassment.  “I saw in the paper to-day that——­”

Mrs. Hildreth lifted her hands in mock alarm.  “Pray spare us any recital of horrors, Evadne!  I never want to hear about any of these dreadful things.  What is the use, when one cannot help in any way?”

“You forget, Mamma,” said Isabelle with a laugh, “that Evadne revels in horrors.  What would be torture to our quivering nerves, to her atrophied sensibilities is merely an occurrence of every day.”

Louis gave a sudden start in his chair, but on the instant Evadne laid her hand upon his arm, and its light touch soothed his anger as it had been wont to soothe his pain.

Evadne Hildreth was climbing the heights of victory.  She had learned to cover her wounds with a smile.

CHAPTER XXVII.

“Who is that calf, Evadne, standing by the piano?” Louis put the question to his cousin the next evening, as he sought a few moments’ respite from his duties as host at her side.

“That is Mr. Simpson Kennard.”

Louis surveyed the fashionably dressed, weak-faced, sandy-haired young man from head to foot.  “He will never get above his collar!” he said in a tone of infinite scorn.

Evadne laughed.  “You must confess it is high enough to limit the aspirations of an ordinary mortal.”

Marion fluttered up to them, her cheeks aglow with excitement.  “Louis, where are you?  I want to introduce you to Simpsey.  He has just arrived.”

Evadne looked after her as she led her brother away.  “Poor little soul.  What a butterfly it is!  Fancy having a husband whom one could call Simpsey!”

She started.  Her knight of the gate was standing before her with outstretched hand.  A great light was in his face.  “Do you remember?” he asked, and Evadne’s eyes glowed deep with pleasure, as she laid her hand in his.  They would never be properly introduced, these two, “’Life is a beautiful possibility,’” she said, “I am proving it so every day,—­but, oh, the awful suffering in the world!  I cannot understand,—­”