The situation was too much for Margaret, that past mistress of situations, and her husband was conscious of a sensation approaching terror and also wrath whenever he glanced at the figure in sumptuous white, the figure expressing sulkiness in every feature and motion.

Margaret was unmistakably sulky as the evening wore on and nobody came except this other girl of whom she took no notice at all.

She saw that she was pretty, her hair badly arranged and she was ill-dressed, and that was enough for her.

She felt it to be an insult that these people had invited her and asked nobody to meet her, Martha Wallingford, whose name was in all the papers, attired in this wonderful white gown.

When Annie Eustace arose to go, she arose too with a peremptory motion.
"I rather guess I will go to bed," said Martha Wallingford.
"You must be weary," said Margaret.
"I am not tired," said Martha Wallingford, "but it seems to me as dull here as in South Mordan, Illinois.