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THE DAYS THAT FOLLOWED WERE FULL OF PARTIES
it was compliments; tete-a-tetes in Aunt Belle's little, confidential den; then, finally, a kiss. It was not at all like her first kiss, but May Belle, in her enchanted fairy tale, was almost forgetting that one — ma — Billy — old, quiet, homely things.
''You are the prettiest creature I have ever seen," Nelson Gryce told her, ardent eyes on her face. "You make other women look faded, somehow. Nymph Lady, I think I am going to fall in love with you."
May Belle clasped her hands joyfully, in the old way. ' ' Oh ! do you?" she cried. "Tell me why."
So he told her, and it was very pleasant to listen to, and May Belle's little, foolish heart beat rapidly, for he spoke as her dream-heroes always spoke, and as the lovers talked in books. But her lips, when she gave them to him, were child-lips still.
"She will learn," thought Nelson Gryce, complacently. "And she will make a better wife for not knowing the world."
Of course there was Billy to be told, and ma. May Belle did not enjoy writing that letter, but she never dreamed of leaving her fairy tale and going back to her Cinderella rags. Aunt Belle was delighted with the good match her niece was making and began at once to plan a trousseau. After she had written the letter and posted it, May Belle drew a long breath. She thought that she was very glad she had done it, and wondered why her hands were so cold and what the queer, frightened feeling in her heart meant.
The days that followed were full of parties and dozens and dozens of lacy, white underthings, dressmakers and plans for the fine wedding that was coming to May Belle. She moved among them all as one moves in a dream, vaguely excited, unquestioning.
She tried on her new frocks in open vanity before her mirror, raptured over misty laces, frost-like embroideries and ribbon bows. She listened