I thought I'd borrow a hairpin apiece from you girls, and I haven't decided yet about the something blue." "No," objected Lloyd.

"The borrowed articles ought to be something really valuable.

Let me lend you my little pearl clasps to fasten your veil, and then for the something blue, there is your turquoise butterfly.

You can slip it on somewhere, undah the folds of lace." "What a lot of fol-de-rol there is about a wedding," said Rob.

"As if it made a particle of difference whether you wear pink or green! _Why_ must it be blue ?" There was an indignant protest from all the girls, and Rob made his escape to the library, calling to Joyce to come and finish the game of chess.
That evening, Mary, sitting on the floor of the library in front of the Poets' Corner, took down volume after volume to scan its index.