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Dennison house, and certainly did nothing to discourage her from going, which Katie had rather expected, for she spent little time with her aunt; indeed when Katie told her that Sir Janus had invited her to a small party he was giving to celebrate Fran’s twenty-second birthday, she seemed inordinately pleased.
    “You must have a new dress, of course,” she said, her eyes gleaming as she eyed Katie speculatively. “I shall arrange for you to see Mrs. Paget, my dressmaker, and we will go into Sea Bar and find some really good material.”
    “But, Aunt Cora,” Katie protested, “there won’t be time to have one made, it’s only a week until I need it, and dressmakers take simply ages.”
    Aunt Cora prissed her thin mouth and would brook no argument. “Not if she knows you will be wearing it to the Dennisons’,” she said tartly. “Emmy Paget is a good business woman, she’ll realise what an excellent advertisement you will be for her.”
    So without delay, Aunt Cora and Katie had embarked on a trip to Sea Bar, the nearest town of any size, and looked at material until Katie felt dizzy trying to choose, while her aunt, with no doubt in her mind as to just what it was that she wanted, shook her grey head repeatedly at the fabrics offered to them. At last she found what she wanted and nodded shortly, to Katie’s relief; it was some beautiful but fabulously expensive jersey silk that Katie sighed over as the assistant measured and cut the required length.
    White, Aunt Cora had insisted, was the colour, or lack of it, that would suit the pattern she had in mind, and she supervised every fitting as Mrs. Paget worked, moulding and fitting the material to Katie’s exquisite figure with surprising skill and speed.
    Ready at last, and standing before the full-length mirror in her wardrobe door, Katie stroked the soft, silky folds that flattered her creamy skin and black hair, and had one of her rare moments of self-appreciation. Emmy Paget had been right, her aunt had got good taste, and she thought of the old lady’s obvious enjoyment as the dress took shape exactly as she had visualised it. Katie thought she looked as well in it as she had ever looked in anything. She looked not only beautiful but almost exotic with only a dull gold antique necklace of her aunt’s to complement the sheer simplicity of the dress.
    Aunt Cora was waiting for her as she came down the stairs and she eyed her with satisfaction, and a smile of unaccustomed softness. “You’re very beautiful, Katherine,” she said softly as she smoothed a drape so that it fell more to her liking. “Mrs. Paget has, perhaps been a little generous in cutting the neckline, but then,” she stepped back satisfied, “the dress has a certain exotic air about it that requires that type of neckline.”
    “It’s beautiful, Aunt Cora.” Katie hugged the old lady impulsively. “I can never thank you enough for it, I feel—oh—” she stretched her arms above her head so that the folds of the silk fell about her, flattering her figure gently and excitingly, “I feel wonderful!”
    Her aunt smiled indulgently at her happiness. “Then I hope that you have an enjoyable time,” she said. “It is almost time you were going, I think.”
    The door bell rang as Katie picked up her wrap from the back of a chair and walked into the hall. “That will be my taxi,” she said, and turned to the wall mirror for a final glimpse at her hair. Behind her, framed in the reflection of the open front door, she saw John Miller, his handsome fair head bent slightly to speak to her aunt.
    “Good evening, Miss Manson,” Katie heard him say. “My cousin, Fran Dennison, asked me to call for Miss Roberts and bring her with me in the car.”
    “Oh, I see.” Aunt Cora stepped back into the hall, somewhat at a loss. “But I believe my niece has asked for a taxi to call, Mr. Miller, so I don’t know—”
    “My cousin also took the liberty of cancelling the taxi, I think,” the