"Massasoit is a great Indian chief, small lass; he is coming in a day or so, and Father and Mr. Winslow will make a treaty with him; that means that Massasoit will promise to be our friend and to protect us from other Indian tribes, he and his Indians, while we shall promise to be true friends to him. It is a great good to our colony, and we are proud, you and I--and I think your mother, too"--Constance glanced with amusement at Priscilla--"that our father is chosen for the colony's representative." "Do you suppose that the Indians know whether cloth or velvet is grander? Those we see like leather and paint and feathers," said Priscilla. "I hold that our men should overawe the savages, but----" "And I hold that brides should be bonny, let it be here, or in England," Constance interrupted her. "What will you wear on the day of days, Priscilla, you darling?" "Well, I have consulted with Mistress Brewster," admitted Priscilla, regretfully. "I did think, being a woman, she would know better how a young maid feeleth as to her bridal gown than her godly husband. But she saith that it is least of all becoming on such a solemn occasion to let my mind consider my outward seeming. So I have that excellent wool skirt that Mistress White dyed for me a good brown, and that with my blue body----" "Blue fiddlesticks, Priscilla Mullins!" Constance again interrupted her, impatiently. "You'll wear nothing of the kind. I tell you it shall be white for you on your wedding day, with your comely face and your honest eyes shining over it! I have a sweet embroidered muslin, and I can fashion it for you with a little cleverness and a deep frill combined, for that you are taller than I, and more plump to take up its length, there's no denying, Prissy dear! We'll not stand by and see our plantation's one real romance end in dyed brown cloth and dreariness, will we, girls?" "No!" cried Humility Cooper who would have followed Constance's lead into worse danger than a pretty wedding gown for Priscilla. But Elizabeth Tilley, her cousin, looked doubtful. "It sounds nice," she admitted, "but I never can tell what is wrong and what is right, because, though we read our Bibles to learn our duty, the Bible does not condemn pleasure, and our teachers do. So it might be safer to wear dull garments when we are married, Constance, and not be light-minded." "You mean light-bodied; light-coloured bodies, Betsy!" Constance laughed at her, with a glint of mischievous appreciation of Elizabeth's unconscious humour that was like her father. "No, indeed, my sister pilgrim. A snowy gown for Pris, though I fashion it, who am not too skilful. Oh, Francis Billington, how you scared me!" she cried, jumping to her feet and upsetting Damaris who leaned upon her, as Francis Billington burst into the room, out of breath, but full of importance.