“I thought perhaps Selina would want me for a bridesmaid,” said Berty, plaintively, “but she didn’t.”
“Too young and foolish,” said Tom, promptly; “but, I say, Berty, where did you get the gown?”
“Margaretta gave it to me. I was going to wear muslin, but she said I shouldn’t.”
“What is it anyway?” said Tom, putting out a cautious finger to touch the soft folds.
“It’s silk, and if you knew how uncomfortable I am in it, you would pity me.”
“Uncomfortable! You look as cool as a cucumber.”
“I’m not. I wish I had on a serge skirt and a shirt-waist.”
“Let me get you something to eat,” he said, consolingly. “That going to church and standing about here are tiresome.”
“Yes, do,” said Berty. “I hadn’t any breakfast, I was in such a hurry to get ready.”