"Arthur!" cried Carry, with a pretty affectation of vexation. "Come in, and keep your brother quiet!" "What is he doing? he seems very harmless," said Dr. Dana, stepping through the window from the piazza. The maligned individual applied his fist to his eye. "I ain't a-touching nothin!" "I am security for his good behaviour," continued Arthur, laying his arm across his shoulder. "Proceed with the case in hand." The rival merits of peach-blossoms and azure were set forth; bandeaux preferred to curls--the gentlemen giving the casting vote;--kid and satin slippers paraded--Charley advocating "calf-skin;"--a muttering of "patriotism" and "domestic manufacture," checked by a pinch from his brother;--every knot of ribbon;--each bud and leaf of the bouquets were settled to the taste of the fair wearers before the council adjourned. CHAPTER IX. The most spacious of Mrs. Truman's chambers was prepared for the ladies' dressing-room, on the evening of the party; and there were no spare corners, although several of the neighbours offered their houses for the use of those who dared not tempt the chance of crumpled robes and disarranged coiffures; the probable consequence of a ride eight or ten miles in gala dress. Every stage of the toilet was in progress, from the chrysalis of the dressing-gown to the full-winged butterfly, the sylph, who, with a dainty adjustment of her diaphanous drapery, and a last, lingering look at the flattering mirror, declared herself "ready." Ida and Carry were bent upon dressing alike; no easy matter to do, consistently with their perceptions of colours and fitness. No one hue became both; so they proscribed the prismatic tints and appeared in virgin white. Carry was beautiful as a dream of Fairy Land. The plump, white arms were bare to the shoulder, and without other ornament than their own fairness, except a chain of gold, attached to a locket, containing her parents' hair. This she never left off. Snowy gloves hid hands, softer still; the exquisitely-fitted corsage, and the waist it enclasped, were the admiration, and, if truth must be told, the envy of the bevy of talkative damsels; but few remarked upon these after a sight of her face. Her hair would curl, do what she would; the rebellious bandeaux refused to be plastered upon the blue-veined temples, but rippled and glittered, like nothing but a stream, golden in the sunset. The most artful _soupcon_ of rouge was a palpable counterfeit compared with her living bloom; pearls lay between the ruby lips; and a spirit, more priceless than gold or rubies, or pearls beamed from the liquid eyes. Ida looked forward with delight to Arthur's exultant smile, when he should behold her; and Carry, alike forgetful of self, was lost in gratified contemplation of the elegant figure of her friend. With not a tithe of the beauty of half the girls present, her tout ensemble was striking and attractive. The haughtiness which held the crowd at a distance, gave a high-bred tone to her