“Dear little girl, the best of all is to have the eyes that see fairy-land anywhere,” said Aunt Alida, kissing Beth just as Mrs. Hodgman had kissed her. Beth had never been kissed in all her life as much as she had been since she had come to New York, Aunt Rebecca not being prone to kisses, but she liked it very much and responded with a warmth that showed she was learning how to show the love that filled her heart. “I’ve been looking for you, Beth,” Aunt Alida said, “because we have important matters to decide, you and I. You know that our costume party is almost beginning--Thursday is Thanksgiving day--and we have nothing ready for you to wear. I think I shall make you into nothing more alarming than a little Puritan maiden, Bethie. The kerchief and cap will suit your serious little face. Will it also suit your serious little taste, dear?” Beth laughed. “I don’t know what it will be like, Aunt Alida, but you know what’s nice for me. I’m afraid to go to your party, Aunt Alida; I’m afraid of people I don’t know.” “Nonsense, Beth! You will know these boys and girls when you’ve met them, so who will there be to fear? Alys is to wear a stiff brocade, copied after an old portrait of a Cortlandt of the early 1700’s; we think Alys will rather suit the stiff old gown. And--here’s a secret, Beth! Natalie is to be a young and pretty witch, all in crimson, with a black bodice. And we are going to have a dance which Natalie is to lead alone, all the others following her. The dance will represent the hunting of a witch in the foolish, cruel old days. Do you think that is a fine idea, little niece? I’m proud of it, for it is my own.” “Oh, yes,” breathed Beth, bewildered but impressed. “Then come along, Bethie, and try on your costume,” cried Aunt Alida triumphantly. “I ordered it several days ago and the dressmaker has sent a woman to try it on; she is waiting in your room. You can’t imagine what fun it is to have three big-little girls to gown for a costume party! It’s like having one’s dolls come back a thousand times nicer than they used to be.” She tucked Beth’s hand under her arm and hurried her to the elevator and up to her room. A woman arose as they entered, holding in her hands a soft gray-blue silken gown, straight and full as to skirt, long and plain as to waist, with delicate muslin sleeves appearing under the silken ones, and a soft muslin kerchief swinging from its shoulders, ready to be crossed over Beth’s palpitating heart. Surely she had been mistaken in thinking this a dull, dreary day, Beth said to herself, and surely the land of magic was not imaginary, nor bounded by the glass walls of the conservatory!