angels weep?”

“I think that one would. It was a dingy brown and a salmon-pink. Wherever it was brown you wished it was salmon-pink, and wherever it was salmon-pink you wished it was brown, except when you were wishing that it was black altogether, without any relief at all.”

“Dear me! What was it like?”

“Well, it was just the one garment that she should never have worn. She wears old-fashioned stays, and though people may think they don’t matter in a tea-gown, I think stays have more effect on the general cut of a tea-gown than they have on any other garment. I should like to have dressed that lady in a plain coat and skirt from my own tailor, with a loose white front, and a good black hat. But I don’t think anybody would know her.”

“Well, it’s no business of yours, little woman,” said the doctor, cheerily. “And, after all, it’s a new family—children—infantile diseases—servants—people apparently thoroughly well-to-do. Bought the house—done it up inside and out. It isn’t for you and I to quarrel with our bread and butter.”

CHAPTER IV

SKATING ON THIN ICE