over her shoulder, for already she was racing out of the room past her mother.
"Good-by. Have a good time!" Mrs. Mitchell lifted her voice toward her daughter racing up the stairs, and then turning, waved her ridiculous folding sunshade at John as she adjured: "Give her your very best advice!"
"Never doubt it," echoed John, with the sudden feeling of a man who is left alone in a house to guard great riches.
"How do you like it?"
Bessie had taken a whole half-hour to change her hat, but her dress had been changed as well, to something white and filmy that reached below the shoe-tops and by those few inches of extra length added a surprising look of maturity to the pliant youthfulness of her figure. This was heightened by a surplice effect in the bodice forming a V, which accentuated the rounded fullness of the bosom and gave a hint of the charm and power of a most bewitching woman, ripening swiftly underneath the artless beauty of the girl.
"Wonderful!" John exclaimed rapturously, rising as she entered.
Bessie's mood was lightly happy. His was deeply reverent, and there was a world of devotion and tenderness in the look he gave her, which thrilled through the girl like an ecstasy.
All the past was coming up to John's mind, all the long past of their friendship with its gradual ripening into normal, all-comprehending love, but still he was searching her uplifted face as if for a final confirmation of the oneness of the vision of his love with this materialization of youth and woman mingling; for he must make no mistake this time.
Yes, the confirmation was complete. It was the true
