She was putting on her gloves—a new pair to match her dress—when John Blagrove knocked at the closet door.
"Come in," cried she.
"Ready, I see," said he, "and looking your prettiest. What’s the day of the month?"
"What a funny question!" said Lucy; "why, the 28th of December, to be sure."
"That’s a date which you must remember all your life, little one," said the old man. "Come along."