Madison times. (Tallulah, Madison Parish, La.) 1884-1???, 1888-05-12

n
any kind. A tiny scarf of white illusion
was crossed over her breast, and her
contemplated toilet was complete. New
ertheless. she surveyed herself i'll the
glass with evident dissatisfaction.
"Dear me, mamma, it isn't half so
had ms | thought it would be. | meant
TO look like IL fright, and after all it's
rather effective. If L were dressed for
private theatricals / should think myself
immense. Oh, dear suppose they
should like me best this way after all ~
It was a sorrowful blow to her hopes
ON this trump card to find herself still
exceedingly pretty. She was perfectly
conscious Of certain piquant charm IL
novel appearance that might undo her
after ali. Still she would run the risk.
She was rerfect little actress. If any
thing Iad been needed 10 effect Roberts S
complete subjugation after his first
vision of her lovelinesS at the Harvard
assemblies it was supplied when he saw
her the week after in some private the
atricals. She could appear to be a
Ouakeress Just as effectively as she could
act her more natural self in very differ
ent world. and it was with face and ac-
cent and manner perfectly adapted to
her new toilet that she quietly entered
the parlor again after her eScapade up
stairs, and said demurely to Roberts
mother:
"Rachel, would thee like me to wear
this gown to morrow evening for thy
friends 2
There was n subdued whistle of de-
light from the reconstructed Robert in
the corner. But Robert S mother gave
no sign.
"Thec mnst wear just what thee
pleases. Edith. If it pleases thee better
to wear thy gown Of red silk"
"And what does Samuel think 2"
Edith asked, passing on to stand before
Roberts father.
Samuel Thinks" said the old gentle
man slyly, "that thee had better ask
Robert"
"Oh, no Papa Samuel, that would not
be any test at all; thee knows perfectly
well that Robert likes me in anything"
said Roberts fiancee, demurely.
"And so do l like thee in anything"
said Papa Samuel, with unexpected gal
lantry. "But | think 1 like thee best,
Edith, in red. Thee knows We Quakers
like to follow the way that is most
simple and natural, and l think red is
the most natural for thee. | think thee
must have been born in that red silk of
thine. Thee is very sweet to me, my
child, in this Quaker grey; but We
Quakers, thee knows, do not approve of
theatricals, and l think tonight thee
is trying to play part. Thee acts it
very prettily, Edith, but l advise thee to
go back to nature and thy red gowns"
SO the battle was won, and the rerlt
proved that Edith was quiteabIe to con- !
quer, not only Robertss relations, but
Roberts relatloHs friends. When, a |
year later, S.e came back to them again |
lS2 bride there was but one thing left |
for Ms<tSeonquer. Robert had pre-
pared her for possible visit from elder |
" friends who might think it their duty |
10 demonstrate with him, or with him,
on this very worldly marriage, and it
was, in truth, hardly n month before he
ran up stairs one afternoon as she was
dressing, with the announcement that
the probable counselors were taking off
their overcOats IN the hall.
She hesitated moment, but her hes |
tation rose merely from n moments |
of whether she had any !
other gown in her wardrobe that would |
emphasize more distinctly her intention
10 adhere to her own traditions. She
decided that the long ira ling skirt of
pale green cashmere, with its border of /
pale plush and its sash of watered silk,
was sufficiently worldly when one took
INTO consideration the jewel that spar
Hled in the laces at her throat, the dainty |
ace edged handkerchief, and the per
'ectly groomed little curls over her white
forehead. She paused only to slip on
'ne more bangle over her round wrist.
md then, kissing her husband, fioated |
lOwn stairs.
Robert never knew exactly what she |
said or did to the old gentlemen in the !
DarlOr. He hung over the banisters and /
;aught the echoes of her silvery little
aughg, and saw the maid carry tea into |
ntO the parlor, and at the end of an
lour descended the stairs himself, as
he old gentlemen emerged from the
doorway, determined to stand by Edith .