But Prudence Jane decided to let her minister explain.
THE GLORY-BOX
BY ELIZABETH ASHE
I
In Southern Ohio a girl's wedding chest is her Glory-Box. If, like Mabel Bennet, you are the daughter of a successful druggist, the box is of cedarwood, delivered free of charge by the Dayton department stores; but if, like Eunice Day, you are the daughter of an unsuccessful bookkeeper who has left a life insurance inadequate even when supplemented by the salary you earn teaching primary children, then the box is just a box, covered with gay cretonne, and serving the purpose very nicely.
When Eunice Day's engagement became known, Mabel, remembering the scalloped guest-towels which Eunice had given her some months before, brought over one afternoon an offering wrapped in tissue paper.
'I hope you'll like this, Eunice,' she said. 'It's just a sack,—what they call a matinée. I've found them very useful.'
Mabel spoke with the slightly complacent air of the three months' bride.
'Why, it's ever so dear of you to go to so much trouble,' said Eunice, taking the package into her hands. She was a tall, slender girl, with dark eyes and a pretty dignity of bearing. 'I'll have to open it right now, I guess. You aren't in a hurry, are you?'
'Oh, no, not especially. Harry doesn't get home until quarter past six, and I've fixed the vegetables. Just you go ahead.'
Eunice untied the white ribbon. 'Why, Mabel, it's beautiful, and such a delicate shade of pink!'