“I want you to have sailor hats, and big sleeves, and Eton jackets, and yellow shoes, and tan gloves, and shirt waists, and ties, and bathing suits, and yachting suits and evening gowns, and all that. Beat Clarice Percy, if you can,” she said. Fortunately Elithe knew that what was proper for the future bride of Paul Ralston was not suitable for her. She had no use for a bathing suit. She had taken her first and last bath in the ocean. She had no use for a yachting dress, which had been suggested to her aunt as essential to a complete outfit. Neither had she any use for an evening dress, such as her aunt wished her to get. A pretty, white muslin, with quantities of soft lace upon it, was the most she would consent to, and she made her other selections with taste and discretion. Relieved of care for Elithe, who evinced a wonderful aptitude to run herself, Miss Hansford gave her attention to her gray silk, striking, fortunately, a dressmaker who had worked for Mrs. Ralston, and knew all about the grand wedding in prospect. She also had in her parlors two or three dresses belonging to parties who were going to Oak City in advance of the occasion. “Why, they are to room with me,” Miss Hansford exclaimed, when she heard their names. “They must be about my age.” This reconciled her to certain innovations in her dress as to what was suitable for her. “I’m sixty-five years old, and I can’t have too many curlycues,” she said, but after seeing the dresses of women as old or older than she was, with Y-shaped necks and elbow sleeves, she gave herself into the modiste’s hands and came out a surprise to herself. “Why, auntie, you look real handsome and young,” Elithe exclaimed, with delight, when the dress was tried on in their rooms at the hotel.