“It’s delicious!” cried Lily.
“I wouldn’t think of changing it,” said Annie Lee. “Why that’s just the style that suits you. You’ll look lovely!”
“I suppose it was once white,” said Amelia, “but still, that cream-color is very nice—though a pure white would be more to my taste.”
“What are you talking about, Amelia—that old ivory shade is a thousand times nicer than dead white. Hold it up against you, Lisa.”
Aunt Gertrude’s wedding dress was made of silk, with a tight little bodice and a huge skirt, brave with flounces and gathers; and above its mellow ivory-colored tones Elise’s flaxen hair shone like gold. Lily, Dolly and Annie Lee were loud in their raptures over her plump, blooming prettiness, but Amelia looked on with a rather strained smile.
“Now, put it back in the box, or you’ll soil it,” said Annie Lee. “And I shall help Janey with the tea; you can’t do half a dozen things at once.”
Over the tea-cups these feminine tongues rattled on still more exuberantly. Amelia drew attention to the probable differences in the futures of the two brides-to-be, and wondered which would be the happier, then Annie Lee began to tease her about some imaginary suitor whom she declared was languishing for Amelia.
“What nonsense! What are you saying? Whoever heard of such a thing!” cried Amelia, but she was immensely pleased, and put on a mysterious expression meant to convey to them that there was more truth in their pleasantries than they were aware of.
“Tell me,” she said, presently, with a lively air, “what has become of that delightful cousin of yours?”
“You mean Paul?” inquired Jane, looking up stolidly enough, but with a grin twitching at the corners of her lips.