They put on the ball-dress. "Now look at yourself," said Miss Cynthia, "and get used to it before I let in the folks." Hanny stood before her mother's tall mirror. Oh, this was Miss Nan Underhill, and she had never seen her before. There was a mystery about her,--a sudden sense of a strange, beautiful, unseen world, a new country she was going into, an old world left behind, an intangible recreation that no words could explain, but that touched her with a kind of exalted sacredness, as if a new life was unfolding all about her. She hardly dared stir or breathe. "For a girl with no special beauty, I think you look very well. But, land sakes! You'll see no end of handsome girls; Margaret and Jim carried off the beauty of this family." Miss Cynthia's voice recalled her from the vision of coming womanhood, that she was to live over again on her wedding night, with its holy blessedness enshrining her within her bridal veil. Her father's eyes shone with a softness that looked like tears. Her mother viewed her all over with a critical air. "I must say, Cynthia, you've done wonderfully. The dress looks very nice. And now, Hanny, I do hope you won't be forward or silly. Mind everything Mrs. Jasper says, and don't you and Daisy giggle. Be careful and don't lose Margaret's handkerchief. I don't just know as you ought to carry that." Joe said she was lovely; and Jim really was very complimentary. He _did_ wish that he was going. But Jim counted the cost of everything now, for he was trying to get out of debt. The coach came up from the Jaspers' and Hanny was put inside. Joe insisted on sharing the box with the driver. When Daisy took off her wrap in the dressing-room, she had on a pale pink silk. Part of her curls were tied up in a bunch on top of her head, and fastened with a silver arrow and two roses. She would always wear it in ringlets, or at least until she was so old she wouldn't mind about her shoulders being not quite straight. The affair was a banquet primarily. To be sure they gathered in the Assembly room; and there was Ben, and Delia, who looked very nice and bright in maize colour and brown. "Oh, Hanny, you are as lovely as a picture," she whispered enthusiastically. "But you _are_ a little mite; there is no denying it. I was so afraid you couldn't come, that something would happen at the last moment. Miss Cynthia is capital." Hanny coloured and almost sighed. She might as well give up hoping to be tall, and accept the fact. They went into the banquet-room, where there were two long tables. They passed around to where a circle of men stood, some of them very fine looking indeed. The advancing group were presented to the great novelist, and in future years Hanny was to treasure the cordial smile and pressure of the hand. But he was to come again when the world had learned to pay him a finer and more discriminating admiration.