mannikins. Over the soft carpets they presently sauntered with their gracefully professional slouch. A stunning evening costume, a trim gray traveling suit, afternoon gowns, sport clothes, filmy lingerie and, at the last, a sheer, fluffy nightgown of crêpe de chine passed in slow, dazzling array—Carmelita's complete trousseau. Jack Hodge stood entranced until Carmelita broke the spell.
"It was worth waiting for, was it not, my Jack?" she smiled.
"You bet," he said, too forcefully, so that Lucy raised a questioning eyebrow toward her husband.
"You are a very lucky girl, my dear," said Lucy. She yawned. "And all this for an old man whom you do not love."
Carmelita sighed thoughtfully. "Why is it always impossible to combine money and love, Lucy?" she asked.
"It isn't," replied the American blandly. "But why insist upon them both in the same man? You know my advice—marry for money and position as your fussy old father wants you to,—and seek your romance where you can find it."
Carmelita shook her head.
"In a way, dear Carmelita, you are unfortunate," Lucy continued upon her favorite subject. "You have your Spanish love for
