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The maids began to serve the luncheon, and the menu, which was as daintily and as carefully planned as the decorations, did not fail to make its appeal to the guests. Doris alone was too much excited to eat.
“But I don’t see how you ever guessed it,” she said to Lily, as she nibbled at her roll. “It was a secret.”
“A little bird told me,” laughed Lily; “but if he hadn’t, I could have guessed it from your face, Doris. People don’t look so joyous over spring wardrobes and summer plans.”
“Well, maybe you’re right, Lily. I guess I do look rather happy—for I am!”
“Do tell us when it is coming off, Doris,” begged Alice. “And all about it.”
“The date is set for the first of June, and I’m going to have a church wedding—with quite a large reception afterwards. You must all come!”
“Don’t worry!” cried Florence. “We wouldn’t miss it for the world!”
“Marie Louise is to be my maid-of-honor,” continued Doris, “and Mae and Marjorie my bridesmaids—at least if Marj will; for I haven’t had a chance to ask her yet.”