"--_Daily Herald_.
* * * * *
"BEAUTY IN HOUSE BUILDING.
LET US LOOK AS THOUGH WE HAD WON THE WAR."--_Daily Mirror_.
Who said we hadn't?
* * * * *
THE DAY.
At last the great day has arrived; in less than half an hour I shall
be at the church. Heavens! what excitement. And yet I suppose most
girls have had to undergo the ordeal, if one may so describe it, at
some period of their life.
The magic church is not far distant and from my room I can hear the
merry pealing of the bells. In the garden the birds are singing as
they have never sung before. Truly life is a beautiful poem on such a
day as this.
But I have really little time to dwell on these things, for am I
not the centre of creation itself, the hub around which the whole
household revolves in one wild bewildering whirl of ecstasy? How can
one think when one is surrounded by a triumphant mother, a couple
of adoring and not envious sisters, a critical brother and a doting
father?
But then why should I think? Why use my brain at all when all the
thinking that needs to be thought is being thought for me? Goodness,
how my poor head reels.
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