“I didn’t—Lottie put me into it. She has taken care of the chest that has held this make-up for years. It was my grandmother’s,” Cara told her guests proudly, pirouetting around to show off to better advantage.
“But the veil?” Louise was fingering the tulle mesh that floated from Cara’s black head. How she held it in over her “bob” was rather mysterious.
“Grandmother’s also,” Cara told the admiring girls. “Aren’t these little sleeves sweet?”
Up to this time Cara had not seen Babs in the college costume, nor had she seen Ruth in the Indian outfit, for these two particular stars had managed to keep in the background while the bride was being inspected. But she espied them both now! And she fairly gasped in astonishment.
“How ever did you do it?” she demanded. “I thought I had the original masquerade idea.”
“Ideas go in flocks,” laughed Babs. “Why don’t you cheer for our Alma Mater?”
“Oh, girls!” breathed Esther. “Aren’t we dreadful? It must be past midnight and we certainly aren’t whispering.”
“No need to,” replied Cara in full voice. “We have this end of the house to ourselves and we’re having a party. But do let me see you, Babs, a real, honest-to-goodness cap and gown! Any one can be a bride——”
“I don’t know about that,” interrupted Louise. “We would have to have a man to be a bride——”
“Oh, Weasy! How literal! I mean this sort of bride, of course,” insisted Cara, sailing around so that her veil flew out in a lovely silken cloud.