Did you feel a thrill of pleasure when the last hook and eye was fastened and you surveyed yourself in the longest mirror in the house? So it was with Anne in her pink crepe de Chine. Or was it really Anne, this little vision in rose color with glowing cheeks and sparkling eyes? She stood spellbound before the glass on that memorable Christmas night, and no one disturbed her for awhile. Mrs. Gray and the girls had stolen out so as not to embarrass the young girl who, for the first time, saw herself in a beautiful new silk dress exactly the color of pink rose petals, which hung in soft folds to the tips of her small pink satin slippers. "Give her a chance, girls," whispered Mrs. Gray. "We mustn't be too enthusiastic about the difference. It might hurt her tender little feelings. But she _does_ look sweet, doesn't she?" "As pretty as a picture, Mrs. Gray," answered Grace, kissing the old lady's peach blossom cheek. "But they are coming. I hear them on the walk. We must get behind the scenes and see that everything is all ready." The big drawing room of the Gray house was soon full of young people watching the folding doors leading into the library with expectant faces. In the hall a string orchestra was discoursing soft music and the place was filled with the hum of conversation and low laughter. Mrs. Gray, seated on the front row, in the place of honor, occasionally looked about her and smiled happily. "Why didn't I do this long ago?" she said to herself. "But then, were there ever before such nice girls as my four adopted daughters?" Miriam sat near, with the other members of her house party. It had been a source of much discussion whether or not to admit Julia Crosby to the freshman party. But, since she was Miriam's guest, what else was there to do? "We shall be only heaping coals of fire on her head at any rate," hinted Jessica, "and that certainly ought to make her feel worse than if she had been left out." After everyone was comfortably seated three loud raps were heard from behind the folding doors. Some one began to play "The Funeral March of a Marionette" on the piano, and the doors slid slowly back. There was a murmur of surprise and wonder.