Sary had bewailed her fate the day preceding the eventful one. Eleanor pacified her by presenting her with a net-lace collar to enliven her rusty black alpaca. An early supper was planned, as the ride to Bear Forks school would take more than an hour, and every one wanted to be there for the grand march. For several hours before supper-time, Barbara locked herself in the bed-room and began her toilette. She dressed her hair, massaged, and rouged and penciled her eyebrows, until she quite tired herself out. Eleanor and Anne rapped again and again for admission, but Barbara was obdurate about her right of possession. When she finally opened the door for her room-mates, they stared at her in amused surprise. "Your hair looks all sizzly, Bob," said Eleanor. "Oh, Bob, remove some of that carmine from your lips!" advised Anne. "Why?" demanded Barbara. "Too much of it, that's all!" giggled Eleanor. But Anne and Eleanor had their own toilettes to make and paid no further attention to Barbara. She managed to remove some of the carmine, and pat down her hair, hot she could not do things as the French maid generally did them to add to her beauty. Feeling dissatisfied with her appearance made Barbara irritable, but she remained in the room criticizing everything the two other girls did or said. Then just before the horn sounded for supper, a knock came at the door. "Come in!" called Anne, buttoning her white suede boots. "'S onny me. Ah jes' wanta ast you-all ef it is right in city sassiety, fur a widder of six months' standin' t' go t' a party whar onny old frien's will be. Thar won't be no sky-larkin' er high-jinks, yo' know!" Sary's anxious tone expressed her eagerness for a favorable reply to her query on widowhood. Eleanor looked at Anne to answer, so she took the initiative. "Certainly, Sary--come right along and enjoy yourself." Barbara was shocked. "The help's not going--surely!" "Humph! Miss Halsey ast me afore she mentioned you-all!" snapped Sary, quite able to defend herself against Barbara's pride. "Oh, Bob doesn't mean it that way, Sary," said Eleanor, giving her sister a backward kick for silence. "Of course not! Bob means that your mourning might prevent your attending the dance. But seeing we are all old friends from ranches round about, it will be like meeting your family," added Anne, the pacifist. "Wall, then, Ah'll go," sighed Sary, as if loath to join a merry throng. "But Ah hez t' have a smitch of somethin' like-ez-how Miss Bob hez fer her shoulders, cuz my neck's gettin' scrawny now." Barbara had draped chiffon over her neck and dress, and at Sary's request, she turned angrily. "The very idea! This chiffon is two dollars a yard!" "I've got the very thing you need, Sary. You can wear second mourning now, I suppose!" exclaimed Eleanor, sending a look at her sister. She hurried to the closet and took a long flat box from the upper shelf. As she carried it over to Sary, Barbara stared.