"
"That's perfectly absurd!" exclaimed Mrs. Sequin indignantly; "you
_must_ remember who you are, and that everybody is noticing you. Why
can't _you_ wear one of Margery's dresses, and let Connie have yours?"
"All right, I'll wear anything you say. Don't you dare cry, Connie!
I'll never forgive you if you make your nose red. Listen! The
musicians are tuning up! May I have the first waltz, madam?" and
seizing Mrs. Sequin by her plump gloved hands, she danced that august
person down the long hall.
"Let me go, you ridiculous child," laughed Mrs. Sequin, hurrying her
up the steps; "the motors are coming up the hill now. Make her look as
pretty as you can, Marie, and hurry!"
At a distance the brilliant, moving lights of automobiles and the
dimmer ones of carriages could be seen approaching, and very soon
under the blaze of the porch lights, hurrying figures in furs,
rustling satin, and soft velvets were being ushered formally into the
big reception hall.
Mrs. Sequin, mounted on her highest social stilts, stood with Margery
in the alcove, so carefully planned for another occasion. A ball to be
sure was a poor substitute for a wedding, but Mrs.
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