The nobility of New York,--or such of it as existed for the purpose of dignifying the salon,--was congregating on the eve of the marriage of Lady Jane Thorne and Lord Temple. Three o'clock the next afternoon was the hour set for the wedding, the place a modest little church, somewhat despised by its lordlier companions because it happened to be off in a somewhat obscure cross-town street and encouraged the unconventional. The bride-elect was not so proud or so self-absorbed that she could desert the Marchioness in the preparation of what promised to be the largest, the sprightliest and the most imposing salon of the year. She had put on an old gingham gown, had rolled up the sleeves, and had lent a hand with a will and an energy that distressed, yet pleased the older woman. She dusted and polished and scrubbed, and she laughed joyously and sang little snatches of song as she toiled. And then, when the work was done, she sat down to her last dinner with the delighted Marchioness and said she envied all the charwomen in the world if they felt as she did after an honest day's toil. "I daresay I ought to pay you a bit extra for the work you've done today," the Marchioness had said, a sly glint in her eyes. "Would a shilling be satisfactory, my good girl?" "Quite, ma'am," said Jane, radiant. "I've always wanted a lucky shillin', ma'am. I haven't one to me name." "You'll be having sovereigns after tomorrow, God bless you," said the other, a little catch in her voice,--and Jane got up from the table instantly and kissed her. "I am ashamed of myself for having taken so much from you, dear, and given so little in return," she said. "I haven't earned a tenth of what you've paid me." The Marchioness looked up and smiled,--and said nothing. "Isn't Lieutenant Aylesworth perfectly stunning?" Lady Jane inquired, long afterwards, as she obediently turned this way and that while the critical Deborah studied the effect of her latest creation in gowns. "Raise your arm, my dear,--so! I believe it is a trifle tight--What were you saying?" "Lieutenant Aylesworth,--isn't he adorable?"