the manager of the shop, who had been standing with discreet anxiety a little aloof. She spoke sharply.
"Where is Monsieur Doucet? Why is he not here?"
Her dark eyes were narrowed a little and her tone had a note of the imperious in it. The manager disappeared and returned shortly with a small Frenchman and a large Frenchwoman, M. de Doucet and his chief assistant, both sputtering apologies.
"Mademoiselle desires to inspect her trousseau?" asked the man.
"Mademoiselle will come with me?" suggested the woman.
"The show begins," smiled Carmelita, recovering her good humor, to the Hodges and started toward the dressing parlors, followed by the subservient duo.
When she reappeared fifteen minutes later, swinging slowly, gracefully toward them, she was gowned as a beautiful bride—a lovely symphony blended of white silks and laces. Her two attendants hovered near, adjusting, admiring.
"It's wonderful, Carmelita," Jack exclaimed.
"Very good, my dear," Lucy Hodge admitted, attesting the success of the costume by really opening her eyes and removing the
