And, "Yes, Célestine, you may get out that pale yellow dress. No, beautiful, the one with the black satin stripes on the bodice--because I don't want my hair cast completely in the shade, do I? Now, let me see--black feather, gloves, large pompadour, _and_ a sweet smile. No, I don't want a fan--that's a Lydia Languish trade-mark. And _two_ silk skirts rustling like the deadest leaves imaginable. Yes, I think that will do. And if you can't hook up my dress without pecking and pecking at me like that, I'll probably go stark, _staring_ crazy, Célestine, and then you'll be sorry. No, it isn't a bit tight--are you perfectly certain there's no powder behind my ears, Célestine? Now, _please_ try to fasten the collar without pulling all my hair down. Ye-es, I think that will do, Célestine. Well, it's very nice of you to say so, but I don't believe I much fancy myself in yellow, after all." Equipped and armed for conquest, then, she came into the room with a very tolerable affectation of unconcern. Altogether, it was a quite effective entrance. "I've been for a little drive, Billy," she mendaciously informed him. "That's how you happen to have the opportunity of seeing me in all my nice new store-clothes. Aren't you pleased, Billy? No, don't you dare get up!" Margaret stood across the room, peeling off her gloves and regarding him on the whole with disapproval. "They've been starving you," she pensively reflected. "As soon as that Jeal person goes away, I shall have six little beefsteaks cooked and see to it personally that you eat every one of them. And I'll cook a cherry pie--quick as a cat can wink her eye--won't I, Billy? That Jeal person is a decided nuisance," said Miss Hugonin, as she stabbed her hat rather viciously with two hat-pins and then laid it aside on a table. Billy Woods was looking up at her forlornly. It hurt her to see the love and sorrow in his face. But oh, how avidly his soul drank in the modulations of that longed-for voice--a voice that was honey and gold and velvet and all that is most sweet and rich and soft in the world. "Peggy," said he, plunging at the heart of things, "where's that will?" Miss Hugonin kicked forward a little foot-stool to the other side of the fire, and sat down and complacently smoothed out her skirts. "I knew it!" said she. "I never saw such a one-idea'd person in my life. I knew that would be the very first thing you would ask for, Billy Woods, because you're such an obstinate, stiffnecked _donkey_. Very well!"--and Margaret tossed her head--"here's Uncle Fred's will, then, and you can do _exactly_ as you like with it, and _now_ I hope you're satisfied!" And Margaret handed him the long envelope which lay in her lap. Mr. Woods promptly opened it. "That," Miss Hugonin commented, "is what I term very unladylike behaviour on your part."