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Lydia is wearing a soft grey voile gown to-night, cut low enough to reveal the roundness and whiteness of her throat, and the blue flowers against her grey corsage made a perfect finish to the simple, dainty costume, beside which they are exactly the color of her eyes.
The Britons among them seemed to be brooding on glaciers. A party of lively Americans were playing bridge, and a scrap of gossip in English from a neighboring compartment revealed that some woman who went to a dance at Montreux, "wore a cheap voile, my dear, a last year's bargain, all crumpled and dirty. You never saw such a fright!"
The following day, Sunday, was mild and beautiful; Marjorie was so glad to see that the rain was gone, and so hopeful about her new project, that she felt quite cheerful again. She selected one of her prettiest dresses a pale pink voile and also wore her pink silk sweater which matched it so perfectly. "I won't bother with a hat," she thought.
You have noticed that I'm not, haven't you, Esther? I'll do anything you say, my dear." "Then lie out in the hammock while I get supper. The berries are all ready. Then we'll all get dressed. Jane may wear one of her new frocks and you shall wear your grey voile. It will be quite a party." "Will there be ice cream? Because if there isn't I don't want to get dressed," sighed Jane.
Nathaniel had kindled a fire of chips in the blue room grate to warm her feet before retiring, and the three women were discussing the wedding in subdued tones when the door opened and the stately form of Lucinda, stately even in the dragged voile, appeared, with the damp Romney behind her. "Lucinda Penhallow!" gasped they, one and all. "I was left to walk home," said Lucinda coolly.
His tired, unhappy eyes drank her in the freshness and sweetness of a domestic Penny, so different from the thorny little office Penny who prided herself on her efficiency as secretary to the district attorney.... Penny in flowered voile, with a saucy, ruffled white apron.... But there were purplish shadows under her brown eyes, and her gayety lasted only until he had reached her side. "Sh-h-h!
"Now, didn't I tell you about that slippery-ellum!" came in a positively triumphant voile to greet them as they stepped out of the front door. Mrs. Peavey was ascending the steps all out of breath, her decorous hat awry, and her eyes snapping with excitement.
'Why, of course, I shall wear my blue voile. How on earth could I wear anything else? How silly you are, Anne! 'Well, if you knew that all the time, why did you ask me? 'Are there plenty of flowers in the studio? 'Yes; but I'll get some more if you like. 'No, no; don't have too many. It looks too arranged. She looked at the clock. 'It won't be five just yet, said Anne. 'It's only eleven.
She tried to speak kindly, for the sage-green dress was as little to her taste as the impossible magenta. Under the two dresses were ribbons of different shades and hues, some strong, coarse stockings, some square-toed shoes, and finally, below everything else, an evening-dress made of voile, and deep blue in tone. "Some of the things will he very useful," said Miss Johnson.
"No, leave that blue voile, Hélène, the collar never fitted." "Oh, he doesn't spend the winters in Paris with you?" asked Sylvia. "He's been staying here in Lydford of late crazy as it sounds. He was simply so bored that he couldn't think of anything else to do. He has, besides, an absurd theory that he enjoys it more in winter than in summer. He says the natives are to be seen then.
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