THE SECRET SESSION "I feel more as though I were getting ready for a funeral than about to give a dinner for the Eight Originals," sighed Grace Harlowe, as she joined her mother on the shady front porch, a little white and gold work bag, which Miss Southard had brought her from Paris, swinging from her arm.

"I can't realize that, within the next week, Nora and Jessica are actually going to become Mrs.Hippy Wingate and Mrs.Reddy Brooks.

It seems ridiculous.

Why it's only yesterday that Jessica's hair hung down her back in two braids, and Nora wore curls and short dresses." "I can't imagine Hippy in the role of a dignified bridegroom," smiled Mrs.Harlowe.

"He is far more likely to convulse the wedding party and upset the whole solemn service than to conduct himself with strict propriety." "He insists that he will cover himself with glory if Reddy doesn't look at him, and Reddy insists that he will sit and stare him out of countenance.