“Ah, you’re the young person sent from Mrs. Sharp’s, I presume?” said one, laying aside a novel. “I’m glad she didn’t disappoint me. Will you please undo it?” pointing to the parcel lying on an ottoman. “I must try it on and let you see that it’s all right before you go.” She spoke as if addressing a menial, and Floy’s cheek burned; but she silently did as requested. The wrappings were removed, and in a moment all three of the young ladies had started to their feet with exclamations of “Lovely!” “Charming!” “Exquisite!” “I shall run into the next room and put it on!” cried the owner. “And I’ll help you, Carrie,” said one of the others. “No, no, Bell, thank you! you and Laura stay here and let me burst in upon you in full bloom,” she answered laughingly. “But you may come,” nodding graciously to Floy. “I’ll need your assistance. I’ll carry this lovely over-skirt; you may bring the rest.” The bedroom to which she conducted Floy was, in the richness and luxury of its furnishing, quite in keeping with the boudoir. The change of dress was quickly made, Floy adjusting the rich folds of the new gown, and making one or two little alterations in the looping or the position of the flowers to suit the taste of the wearer. “Wait here a moment while I show myself to my friends,” said the latter when all was done. She sailed away into the adjoining room, and Floy heard the exclamations. “Oh, charming, Carrie!” “And so becoming! I declare, Cal, even Espy Alden would find you irresistible in that!” “Why not say Will? he’s to be here next week--coming home with Fred to spend the holidays. They’re college chums, you know.” The light, joyous laugh that accompanied the words seemed to say that she considered him as already secured. Floy heard it all, and a pang shot through her heart. Espy Alden! her own Espy! it could be no other, for it was no common name. Faint, giddy, sick at heart, trembling in every limb, she dropped into a chair and hid her face in her hands. She thought she had resigned him, yet oh, what anguish that another should have won her place in his heart! No tears came to her burning eyes, but she was half frightened at the pallor of her face as, on raising her head again, she caught sight of it in a mirror on the opposite wall. She hastily drew down her veil to hide it. The talk was going on in the next room, and every word came distinctly to her ear. “What’s he like?” “Oh, you haven’t seen him, Bell? There, what do you think of him? It’s not a bit flattered; is it, Laura?” “No; don’t do him justice. No photograph could, for he’s much handsomer when he’s talking and laughing than when his face is at rest.” “That’s so, and he’s a splendid talker; quite an artist too, Fred says. But now tell me if you think all these flowers are disposed to the very best advantage.” The rest of the chat was about the dress, and fell utterly unheeded upon Floy’s ear.