202 TROTTY’S WEDDING TOUR.

brown gloves upon her hands. She had come, she said, with
that Cluny set which she found that she should need for a
party this very night ; indeed, she was in so much haste for it
that she had hunted Deb’s mother up,— which was a matter
of some difficulty, as she had never had the least idea where
she lived before, and how crooked the stairs were; but the
lace was very yellow, — as she saw, — and would she be sure
to have it done by nine o’clock to-night ? and —

And then, turning her head suddenly, the straight young
lady saw poor crooked Deb in her high chair, with the wonder
in her eyes.

“ Dear me!” said the straight young lady.

“JT wonder if I frightened her,” thought Deb. But she
only wondered, and did not speak.

“Ts this your—”

“Yes,” said Deb’s mother, “the oldest. Fifteen. I ’Il
try my best, ma’am, but I don’t know as I’d ought to prom-
ise.’ She spoke in a business-like tone, and turned the
Cluny lace — a dainty collar and a pair of soft cuffs — about
in her hands in a business-like way. A breath of some kind
of scented wood struck, in a little gust, against Deb’s face.
She wondered how people could weave sweet smells into a
piece of lace, and if the young lady knew ; or if she knew how
much pleasanter it was than the onions that Mrs. McMahoney
cooked for dinner every day in the week but Sunday, upon
the first floor. But it gave her quite enough to do to won-
der without speaking.