With a warm and dazzling smile, she ran out to put the chocolate on the grill, and arrange the sandwiches and fruit and cake on the table around the bowl of drooping roses, and then, humming blithely, hurried into her own room to change from her heavy dress to a soft house gown. When, a few moments later, she returned to Marie, she found her standing pensively in the center of the room, the heavy folds of a dark red gown falling about her graceful figure, her head sunk on her breast in reverie. Eveley put her arms around her tenderly. "You are beautiful," she said. "Don't worry, dear. You are going to be very happy, even yet. Just trust me--and--do you know the song of the Belgian girl--Well, we shall make an American Beauty of you, sure enough. Just try to be happy, and have confidence in me, Marie. I shall never go back on you. My, how quick you were! Your bag is all unpacked, isn't it?" She glanced with quickly appraising eyes at the heavy silver articles of toilet laid out on the dressing-table, and at the gowns swinging from the pole in the closet. "Come along, baby sister," she said affectionately, "or the chocolate will run all over the grill." There was deep if unvoiced appreciation in Marie's eyes as she observed the fine heavy furniture of the little dining-room, the lace doilies on the mahogany table, the fine pieces of china, and the drooping roses. Eveley led her gaily to her place at the table, and sat down beside her. "We really ought to ask a blessing," she said. "I feel such a fountain of gratitude inside of me. My own sister was ten years older than I, and there were no babies afterward for me to make a fuss over. This is a brand-new experience, and I am just bubbling over." "But I am no baby," said Marie, smiling the wistful smile that suggested tears and heartaches. "I think I am quite as old as you." "Oh, impossible," gasped Eveley. "Why, I am twenty-five years old." "Really!" mocked Marie, and she laughed--and Eveley realized it was the first time Marie had laughed. "Well, I am twenty-three and a half." "Oh, you can't be. Mr. Hiltze said you were a child, and you are so little and slim and young." "You have been a woman, living a woman's life, with all a woman's interests. But our women are sheltered, kept away from life, and that is why I am like a child in facing the world--because I have never faced it. I look young, and act young, because--well, with us, our women marry early. If they do not, they must retain the charm of youth until they do. That is what we are taught, it is our business as women to be young and lovely until we marry." "I love to hear you talk," said Eveley irrelevantly. "You are just like a chapter out of a new and thrilling story--See, I have let my chocolate grow cold just looking at you, and listening. I am very glad you are nearly as old as I--we can not only be sisters, but twins if you like." Marie sipped her chocolate, daintily, dreamily. Then she looked at Eveley searchingly.