"Well, the day after?"
"Let me see," mused Anna. "Oh, no!" she added, hastily. "I could not
start on a journey or begin any work on a Friday; it would not be
lucky, you know!" Then she flushed and looked toward Miss Irene, who
shook her head significantly and wrote in her note-book, "Superstitious
practice No. 4."
As it was Emily's birthday, the girls had been invited to stay for
luncheon. Emily now led the way to the dining-room, where a pretty
table was spread. Everything was as dainty as good taste and handsome
auxiliaries could make it: the snowy damask, fine glass, and old family
silver; the small crystal bowls filled with chrysanthemums, and at each
plate a tiny bouquet.
Mr. Mahon was down town at his business, but there stood Mrs. Mahon, so
kind and affable; and the boys and girls of the family were waiting to
take their seats. The party paused, while, according to the good
old-fashioned custom (now too often neglected), grace was said; and
Cousin Irene, contemplating the bright faces and pleasant surroundings,
thought she had seldom seen a more attractive picture.
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