They had not so far been of much personal interest to Gerald, but tonight was different. Who's the lucky boy, Lucy?\" Lucy looked at her slippered feet. " "It won't. “My dear girl,” he said, in a tone of patient reasonableness, “you are a mere child. But of what use to wear it when there was no one of importance to see and admire? ‘For shame, Melusine,’ protested Lucy, as the butler bowed himself out of the room. Lucy had baked the apple and pumpkin pies, carefully molding the flour crusts and adding extra teaspoonfuls of allspice and cinnamon while no one looked. “She must be warned. . ’ ‘Only a few minutes, miss.
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