Shyly and perversely Lily Rose had postponed the trying on of her
borrowed wedding waist until the day preceding the great event.
"There won't be time to fit it," pleaded Amarilly.
And Lily Rose had smiled a faraway smile and said her veil would cover
it anyway. But finally Amarilly's pleas prevailed and the beloved
garment was brought forth.
Amarilly took it reverently from its wrappings and held it up to view.
After many exclamations of wonder and admiration, Lily Rose, who had
removed her dress, essayed to try it on.
"Why, Amarilly," she said, struggling to get her arm into the sleeve,
"there's something the matter! It's sewed together, or something."
Amarilly hastened to investigate.
"Oh!" she gasped, after thrusting her hand within, "to think it should
be in here, for I am sure this is what Miss King has been looking for so
long. Wait until I go and ask ma about it."
She hurried to the kitchen precinct of the house.
"Oh, Ma, do you know how this came in Miss King's lace waist? The one
that was here through the fever?"
"Why, didn't you ever take that home?"
"Yes," informed Amarilly, "but she made me a present of it, and I put it
away to keep till I was--grown up. And I want to lend it to Lily Rose to
be married in. And when she went to try it on, she found this in the
sleeve."
Mrs. Jenkins paused in the sudsing of a garment.
"Let me see!" she said, surveying the object with reminiscent scrutiny.
"Oh, yes, I remember now. I found it on the floor the day she was here,
afore the waist was ready for her. I thought she had dropped it, and so
I pinned it in the sleeve of her dress, and was goin to tell Gus to give
it to her, but he didn't take the waist hum, and then so much happened,
it went clean out of my mind."
"I'll go right over to her house with it now," said Amarilly.
Lily Rose, adorned in the filmy, white waist, entered the kitchen.
"See, Amarilly," she said delightedly. "It's a beautiful fit!"
But Amarilly had something on her mind of more moment even than Lily
Rose's wedding garments.
"I am glad it fits," she said hurriedly, scarcely vouchsafing a glance
toward Lily Rose as she caught up her hat, and hastened as fast as the
street-cars would take her to Colette. Orders had been given for the
admittance of Amarilly at any hour and to any room her young patroness
might chance to be occupying. This morning she was in her boudoir.