Trevlyn remained in the city to adjust some business affairs which had
suffered from his long absence, and Margie and her friends went up to her
own home. He was to follow them hither on the ensuing day.
And so it happened that once more Margie sat in her old familiar chamber
dressing for the coming of Archer Trevlyn. What should she put on? She
remembered the rose-colored dress she had laid away that dreadful night
so long ago. But now the rose-colored dreams had come back, why not wear
the rose-colored dress? She went to the wardrobe where she had locked it
away. Some of the servants had found the key out in the grass where she
had flung it that night, and fitted it to the lock. She lifted the dress,
and the beautiful pearl ornaments, and held them up to the light. The
dress was fresh and unfaded, but it was full four years behind the style!
Well, what did that matter? She had a fancy for wearing it. She wanted to
take up her life just where she had left it when she put off that dress.
To the unbounded horror of Florine, she arrayed herself in the
old-fashioned dress, and waited for her lover. And she had not long to
wait. She heard his well-remembered step in the hall, and a moment after
she was folded in his arms.
* * * * *
At Christmas there was a bridal at Harrison Park.
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