"That need not matter," said her mother, loftily, "I will give her one of my India China plates. That will be present enough for anybody; and I have several left."
This, Mrs. Reed correctly augured, was the preface to surrender; and she walked Muriel off to call on Miss Webb, before any more objections should arise.
"Well!" cried that young lady at the first sight of her bridesmaid, "Well! I beg your pardon, but you are—" and even Mrs. Pickens regarded the young girl with languid admiration. Muriel Blake's golden curls, and azure eyes, and roseate bloom flashed on the eye much as does a cardinal flower in a wayside brook. No one could help noticing her charms; but no one had ever gone farther than to notice them, and they were about as useful in her daily duties as diamonds on the handle of a dustpan. Minnie looked at her rather doubtfully for a moment; but her good humour returned during the pleasing task of arraying the girl in her costume, and she even insisted on Miss Blake's assuming the bridal dress herself.
"Well, I'm sure! What a bride you would make! You aren't engaged, are you?"
"No."
"You ought to travel. You'd be sure to meet someone. Well, we'll take it off. I'm glad I'm going to wear it, and not you. You look quite stunning enough in the other."
"It is lovely—too handsome for me."
"I had a complete outfit made in Paris this spring, though I wasn't engaged then; but I guessed I should be before the things went out of fashion."
"You knew Mr. MacJacobs very well then?"
"No—oh, no. I'd never seen him. Ma was anxious I should marry a foreign gentleman."