Under the Country Sky

ng-room of the old manse, and shut the door with a bang. Breathing rapidly from her exertions, her cheeks warmly flushed, her dark eyes

"and very opportune. It was but yesterday, it seems to me,

ous and impossible for a little town like this; one draggled lingerie frock, two evening coats, and possibly-just possibly-a last year's tailor

y on the down-bent head with its masses of dark-brown hair, upon the white and shapely arms from which the sleeves were rolled back,-Georgiana had been busy in the

packing the box with a lot of castaways. Well, here's hoping there's just one thing I can use,"

can use," her father gently remind

, and a draggly train. Doesn't it look suitable for me?" She flung it aside with a gesture of scorn. "Ah, here's something a shade better! A little dancing frock of rose-coloured chiffon-and her clumsy partner stepped on the hem of it

lable to me," suggested Mr. Wa

re's a velvet-cerise! What a glorious, impossible colour! And here's the lingerie frock; that's not so bad; I really think it will stand a couple of launderings before it falls to pi

more firmness than one might expect from so frail a person, "that I have heard

ch relations were persons with a trifle keener sense of discernment as to which of their old clothes would be most appreciated by their poor cousins. They must now and then, Father Davy, wear something sensible. They must ha

h a sparkle of humour in his blue-gray eyes that his daughter laughed in spite of herself. "Come, come, dear, is there nothing you can approv

ed her blue-print clad shoulders with an astonishing effect of incongruity. "I have a wonderful inspiration. Let's ask Jeannette out here for a visit-an object-lesson as to the state of life whereunto the

amused, met Georgiana's, audacious, defiant, mischievous, ye

uld come?" Mr. Warne

who never 'came out' in my life, am as keen at the game of being grown up as if I were just putting up my hair for the first time. Well, Jeannette's been keeping up the pace all winter, is thoroughly worn out and unhappy, and doesn't know what to do with herself.

t having seen or known her-except through thes

who would wear that? Wild for excitement-that's why she chose the colour. But she didn't get the fun she expected; he didn't like it-or so

her white shoulders and gleaming arms she flung the cerise velvet-gorgeous, glowing, wonderful colour, as trying to the ordinary complexion as colour can well be. But as the gown fell into place, and Georgian

Holding a dialogue with a hypothetical male guest, she led him out into the hall, still within sight of Mr. Warne's couch, and was in the midst of a scene as inspiredly clever as anything she had ever done at college, where she had

g the amused gaze of her boarder, Mr. E. C.

hough after the somewhat remote fashion to be expected of a man whose absorbing work filled most of his waking hours. He closed

rew him a laughing look, murmured: "Dress parade in borrowed finery, Mr. Jefferson; don't let the blaze of colo

happily retaining the use of my eyes, Miss Warne. You need not

r grave. Georgiana closed the living-room door upon the sight of the lithe figure rapidly ascending the staircas

time he has met me in the role of leading lady on the melodramatic stage. Please unhook me, Father Davy; the play is over, and it's t

hter. Invite her, by all means. You have far too little young companio

giana. "Anyhow she'll see what a market th