The Metropolis

THEY found their apartments looking as if they had been struck by a snowstorm — a storm of red and green and yellow, and all the colours that lie between. AU day the wagons of fashionable milliners and costumers had been stopping at the door, and their contents had found their way to Alice's room. The floors were ankle-deep in tissue paper and tape, and beds and couches and chairs were covered with boxes, in which lay wonderful symphonies of colour, haK disclosed in their wrappings of gauze. In the midst of it all stood the girl, her eyes shining with excitement.

"Oh, Allan!" she cried, as they entered. "How am I ever to thank you ?"

"You're not to thank me," Montague replied. "This is all Oliver's doings."

"Oliver!" exclaimed the girl, and turned to him. "How in the world could you do it.?" she cried. " How will you ever get the money to pay for it all.?"

"That's my problem," said the man, laughing. "All you have to think about is to look beautiful."

"If I don't," was her reply, "it won't be for lack of clothes. I never saw so many wonderful thin^ in all my life as I've seen to-day."

"There's quite a show of them," admitted Oliver.

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"And Reggie Mann! It was so queer, Allan! I never went shopping with a man before. And he's so — so matter-of-fact. You know, he bought me — everything!"

"That was what he was told to do," said OUver. " Did you like him ? "

" I don't know," said the girl. " He's queer — I never met a man hke that before. But he was awfully kind; and the people just turned their stores inside out for us — half a dozen people hurrying about to wait on you at once!"

"You'll get used to such things," said Oliver; and then, stepping toward the bed, "Let's see what you got.'

"Most of the things haven't come," said Alice. "The gowns all have to be fitted. — That one is for to-night," she added, as he lifted up a beautiful object made of rose-coloured chiffon.

Oliver studied it, and glanced once or twice at the girl. "I guess you can carry it," he said. "What sort of a cloak are you to wear.?"

"Oh, the cloak!" cried Alice. "Oliver, I can't believe it's really to belong to me. I didn't know anyone but princesses wore such things."

The cloak was in Mrs. Montague's room, and one of the maids brought it in. It was an opera wrap of grey brocade, lined with unborn baby lamb — a thing of a gorgeousness that made Montague literally gasp for breath.

"Did you ever see anything like it in your life.P" cried Alice. "And Oliver, is it true that I have to have gloves and shoes and stockings — and a hat — to match every gown ?"

" Of course," said Oliver. " If you were doing

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things right, you ought to have a cloak to match each evening gown as well."

"It seems incredible," said the girl. "Can it be right to spend so much money for things to

But Oliver was not discussing questions of ethics; he was examining sets of tinted crepe de chine lingerie, and hand-woven hose of spun silk. There were boxes upon boxes, and bureau drawers and closet shelves already filled up with hand-embroidered and lace-trimmed creations — chemises and corset-covers, night-robes of "handkerchief linen" lawn, lace handkerchiefs and veils, corsets of French coutil, dressing-jackets of pale-coloured silks, and negligees of soft batistes, trimmed with Valenciennes lace, or even with fur.

"You must have put in a full day," he said.

"I never looked at so many things in my life," said Alice. "And Mr. Mann never stopped to ask the price of a thing."

"I didn't think to tell him to," said Oliver, laughing.

Then the girl went in to dress — and Oliver faced about to find his brother sitting and staring hard at him.

"Tell me!" Montague exclaimed. "In God's name, what is all this to cost ?"

"I don't know," said Oliver, impassively. "I haven't seen the bills. It'll be fifteen or twenty thousand, I guess."

Montague's hands clenched involuntarily, and he sat rigid. "How long will it all last her?" he asked.

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" Why," said the other, " when she gets enough, it'll last her until spring, of course — unless she goes South during the winter."

"How much is it going to take to dress her for a year?"

"I suppose thirty or forty thousand," was the reply. 'I don't expect to keep count."

Montague sat in silence. "You don't want to shut her up and keep her at home, do jou?" inquired his brother, at last.

'Do you mean that other women spend that much on clothes.''" he demanded.

"Of course," said Oliver, "hundreds of them. Some spend fifty thousand — I know several who go over a hundred."

"It's monstrous!" Montague exclaimed.

"Fiddlesticks!" was the other's response. "Why, thousands of people live by it — wouldn't know anything else to do."

Montague said nothing to that. "Can you afford to have Alice compete with such women indefinitely.''" he asked.

"I have no idea of her doing it indefinitely," was Oliver's reply. "I simply propose to give her a chance. When she's married, her bills will be paid by her husband."