vacate, that's all. They expect you to do your part."
For a moment Marjorie looked angry, then her eyes filled with tears. "Well, I will try, hereafter!" she exclaimed, penitently, as she patted the soft hand of Meekness who was just passing in.
A moment later a very pretty lady, gaily dressed, came up the steps and bowed, airily, to Marjorie as she passed through the door.
Marjorie caught her breath. "Isn't she sweet!" she cried. "I never saw her before. Who is she?"
"Her name is Frivolity," said the Dream.
"Oh," said Marjorie. "Well, she's ever so pretty, anyway, and I'm sure she can't do much harm. Wasn't her dress lovely! Did you ever see such yards and yards of lace? And her hat—" words failed Marjorie.
"Yes, she looked fine," admitted the Dream, "and did you notice her satchel?"
"Yes. Wasn't it handsome? I suppose she had other lovely things in that."
"No," said the Dream, shaking his head. "At least, I know what is generally in that satchel."
