"Oh, yes! I have some rare old Indian lace of my mother's and a white crepe veil that my grandmother wore at her wedding."
"Well, you have the materials. That is very fortunate. And as there are two more days, we'll see what my own dressmaker can do for you."
"And where is the ball to be?" Helen asked with growing interest.
"In the Grand Hall at the Citadel. And let me whisper in your ear: We will see that you are the belle of the evening."
"You forget that I am an old married woman!" exclaimed Helen with a laugh.
"Perhaps you are," commented Mrs. Mason, raising her eyebrows, "but nevertheless you will conquer the hearts of the men—every one of them."
Just then Harold entered the room, and hearing Mrs. Mason's statement, he laughingly declared that he was already jealous. But when she told him of the discussion relative to the prospective overland journey, he folded his wife in his arms and kissed her—not once nor twice—but many times. Whereupon Mrs. Mason put on her spectacles and commenced to count over the names of the invited guests.
CHAPTER X.
The old Citadel was brilliantly illuminated. Lights gleamed in every window. The snow was shovelled clean from the footpaths, and guardsmen had made smooth the drives for incoming sleighs. The full moon shone with softened lustre from a cloudless sky, filling the air with voiceless music, and enveloping with chastened beauty the wide stretches of ice and snow which mantled the earth.
Within the citadel a bevy of pretty girls, aided by the junior officers, had decorated the doors and windows with elaborate care. Festoons of cedar, sprigs of holly and bunches of red berries, softened by the light from the candelabra, while innumerable lamps of archaic design added variety and beauty to the scene.