"I think we might have had to-morrow to ourselves, mamma--the last day all by ourselves before those people begin to arrive." "Yes, I think so too; but it is difficult to say no, and as she was not here when the others came---- She is the greatest critic in the parish. She will have so much to say." "I daresay it may be fun," said Elinor, brightening up a little, "and of course anyhow Alice must have come to talk about her dress. I am tired of those bride's-maids' dresses; they are really of so little consequence." Elinor was not vain, to speak of, but she thought it improbable that when she was there any one would look much at the bride's-maids' dresses. For one thing, to be sure, the bride is always the central figure, and there were but two bride's-maids, which diminished the interest; and then--well, it had to be allowed at the end of all, that, though her closest friends, neither Alice Hudson nor Mary Tatham were, to look at, very interesting girls. "They are of great consequence to them," said Mrs. Dennistoun, with the faintest smile. "I didn't mean that, of course," said Elinor, with a blush; "only I never should have worried about my own dress, which after all is the most important, as Alice does about hers." "Which nobody will look at," Mrs. Dennistoun said. "I did not say that: but to tell the truth, it is a pity for the girls that the men will not quite be, just of their world, you know. Oh, mamma, you know it is not that I think anything of that, but I am sorry for Alice and Mary. Mr. Bolsover and the other gentlemen will not take that trouble which country neighbours, or--or John's friends from the Temple might have done." "Why do you speak of John's friends from the Temple, Elinor?" "Mamma! for no reason at all. Why should I? They were the only other men I could think of." "Elinor, did John ever give you any reason to think----" "Mamma," cried Elinor again, with double vehemence, her countenance all ablaze, "of course he never did! how could you think such foolish things?" "Well, my dear," said her mother, "I am very glad he did not; it will prevent any embarrassment between him and you--for I must always believe----" "Don't, please, oh, don't! it would make me miserable; it would take all my happiness away." Mrs. Dennistoun said nothing, but she sighed--a very small, infinitesimal sigh--and there was a moment's silence, during which perhaps that sigh pervaded the atmosphere with a sort of breath of what might have been. After a moment she spoke again: "I hope you have not packed up your ornaments yet, Elinor. You must leave them to the very last, for Mary would like to see that beautiful necklace. What do you think you shall wear on the day?" "Nothing," said Elinor, promptly. She was about to add, "I have nothing good enough," but paused in time.