"You're excused," smiled the older woman. "At least if you'll be patient while I talk clothes for a moment.... You see, dear," she explained to Linda, "this dress has just come—I ordered it a couple of weeks ago for you when I was shopping in Columbus—and I think it will do nicely for the wedding. Louise's mother just told me that you will be the only attendant—it's too short notice to worry about bridesmaids—and that practically any color you select will do. So I want you to look at this."
Taking off the lid of the box, she held up a filmy chiffon dress of the palest apple-blossom. Simply made, with a petaled skirt and a wide pink satin bow at the waist, its delicacy spoke eloquently of spring-time, of weddings, of romance. Yet Linda hardly saw it.
"Lovely, Aunt Emily, lovely," she murmured mechanically. "You always have the most perfect taste."
Satisfied with her niece's approval, and unaware of the far-away look in the girl's eyes, Miss Carlton turned again to her desk, bidding the young people go off and amuse themselves.
"You didn't tell her, Linda!" exclaimed Harry, as they went out to the garage for the sports roadster.
"No. She—wouldn't be interested, Harry! Aunt Emily's a dear, but she has no time for airplanes. And she thinks ocean flights are absolutely insane."
"But oughtn't you to let her know immediately that the wedding will be postponed? That Louise will go with you now, as she promised?"
Linda was silent; she had forgotten how changed her chum's plans were. It would hardly be fair at this late date to ask her to put the wedding aside. Why, even the cake was ordered!
"No, Harry, I can't do it now. I'm—I'm not going to take Louise."
They had reached the garage, and Linda stooped over to unlock her car. As she did this, she made her decision; it was so simple that she was surprised that she had not thought of it before.