She scowled and threw the gown on a box. “All right,” she said sharply. “I’ll speak to Eustace tonight. Now let’s pick out the gowns for the party, and you, Polly, cart off the rest for the other girls to choose from. I think I’ll take this one as it wasn’t made for corsets.” She held up a narrow gown of gold-colored gauze with a low pointed neck, high belt, and short slashed puffed sleeves. Elsie chose a silk robe printed with foliage, with a Watteau pleat behind extending into a train, wide elbow-sleeves with deep ruffles of lace. Polly, after rejecting eight or ten of the most elaborate gowns, professed herself satisfied with one of plum-colored velvet over a figured satin petticoat and long pointed waist, panniers and full skirts. Then they carried the gowns downstairs and put all but two into Polly’s motor and the gardener was told to take three chests containing masculine regalia to Eustace Bylant’s lodgings on the following morning. CHAPTER XXII Bylant came to dinner and was immediately told of the projected fancy-dress ball and the riches of the attic; but it had been agreed that the plans for the wedding should be communicated by Gita in the privacy of the library, when Elsie, as ever, had retired to her study. Bylant, who was looking tired and depressed, brightened visibly. He grasped at the idea of being someone quite different from himself for a few hours, and his severely repressed love of the picturesque could have its way for once. “I’ll go as one of the old governors,” he said. “Cornbury, for choice. He fell in love with his wife’s ear—before marriage, of course—and I’ve permitted even myself that much. Besides, he was a villain, and I’d enjoy being that for a night.” Gita laughed merrily. “Dear old Eustace! You couldn’t be a villain if you tried. But you must be pompous and stately, for you and Polly are to lead off in a minuet. We haven’t the least idea what a minuet is like, but you’ll line up and bow, turn, dance a few steps forward and retreat. No drinks will be passed till it’s over.” “Then it will be stiff enough. I’ll not tell the men that or they won’t come.” As they left the dining-room Gita took his arm and pressed it affectionately. “I’ve a still greater surprise for you,” she whispered. “Indeed?” He dared not detach himself but he averted his eyes. He had never seen her look so beautiful. She wore a very soft, very clinging gown, the shade of the American Beauty rose; one of the fine flowers of her trousseau. It matched the deep flush of excitement in her cheeks and her eyes were bigger and brighter and blacker than ever. “Do you mind if we go outside?” he asked. “It’s a clear night.” “I don’t mind, but we’ll have to walk to keep warm, and you always choose the most comfortable chair in the library for your cigar.” “I rather feel like walking.”