Of course--it's only earth, after all, and not heaven--she'd rather
the bridegroom was going to be young Doc. But Miss Princess had
arranged it this other way--her bridegroom had come out of the East.
And the Wedding was almost here! . . . There never was morning so
fair, nor grass so vivid and shiny, nor air so soft. Above her head
the cherry-buds were swelling, almost ready to burst. From the open
windows of the house, down the street, sounds from a patient piano,
flattered by distance, betokened that Kitty Allen was struggling
with "Perpetual Motion"; Missy, who had finished her struggles with
that abomination-to-beginners a month previously felt her sense of
beatitude deepen.
Presently into this Elysium floated her mother's voice, summoning
her to the house. Rounding the corner of the back walk with the
perambulator, she collided with the grocer-boy. He was a nice-
mannered boy, picking up the Anthology and Baby's doll from the
ground, and handing them to her with a charming smile. Besides, he
had very bright, sparkling eyes. Missy fancied he must be some lost
Prince, and inwardly resolved to make up, as soon as alone, a story
to this effect.
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