CHAPTER XXV.
THE TWO FACES IN THE MIRROR.
Toward the last of May Arthur came to Vassar, bringing with him the graduating dress which he had bought in New York, with Maude as his adviser.

He had Jerrie at the hotel to spend Saturday and Sunday with him, and took her to drive and to shop, and then in the evening asked her to put on her finery, that he might see how it looked.
'I shall not come to hear you spout out your erudition,' he said, 'for I detest crowds, with the dreadful smell of the rooms.

I have gotten the park house tolerably free from odors, though the cook's drain is terrible at times, and I shall have brimstone burned in the cellar once a week.

But what was I saying?
Oh, I know--I shall not be here at commencement, and I wish to see if my Cherry is likely to look as well as any of them.' So Jerrie left him alone while she donned the white dress, which fell in soft, fluffy folds around her feet, and fitted her superb figure perfectly.

She knew how well it became her, and sure of Arthur's approbation, went back to the parlor, where she had left him.