"Oh, Genevieve, you do look just too sweet for anything in that pale pink," panted Elsie, stopping at her side between dances.
"Not any sweeter than you do in that white," tossed back Genevieve, affectionately.
Elsie sighed.
"I love this white, too, but it's got kind of frazzled now. Aunt Kate says she is going to make over Fannie's brown silk for Miss Sally's wedding," she went on, sighing again.
"I'm sure that will be nice," rejoined Genevieve, with hasty politeness.
"Y-yes," admitted Elsie; "only brown sounds kind of hot for April. Still, I suppose I ought not to mind. Just one girl wore it, anyhow, so it'll be faded even, and I sha'n't look like two folks in it," she finished wistfully, as Howard Mack came up to claim his dance with Genevieve.
It was three days after the party that there came a letter from Mr. Jones in reply to Mrs. Kennedy's Christmas note. It was a very grateful letter, but it was a disappointing one. It said that Mr. Jones did not see how he could let Quentina accept the kind invitation of Mrs. Kennedy and Genevieve. All the way through it, very plainly was shown the longing of a man who desires advantages for his daughter, and the pride of one who cannot bear that outsiders should give them to her.
Mrs. Kennedy saw this—and wrote another letter. In due time came the answer; and again Genevieve almost cried with disappointment. But Mrs. Kennedy smiled and comforted her.
"Yes, he says 'no,' I'll admit, Genevieve; but I don't think it's quite so strong a 'no' as it was before. One of these days I think I'll write Mr. Jones another letter, my dear—but not just now. We'll let him think a little—of how good it would have been for Quentina if he'd said 'yes.'"
Genevieve gave Mrs. Kennedy a big hug.