MAKING PEOPLE HAPPY


                  CHAPTER I

  THE bride hammered the table desperately with her
gavel. In vain! The room was in pandemonium.
  The lithe and curving form of the girl-for she
was only twenty, although already a wife- was
tense now as she stood there in her own drawing-
room, stoutly battling to bring order out of chaos.
Usually the creamy pallor of her cheeks was only
most daintily touched with rose: at this moment the
crimson of excitement burned fiercely. Usually her
eyes of amber were soft and tender: now they were
glowing with an indignation that was half-wrath.
  Still the bride beat a tattoo of outraged authority
with the gavel, wvholly without avail. The con-
fusion that reigned in the charming drawing-room
of Cicily Hamilton did hut grow momently the more
confounded. The Civitas Club was in full operation,
and would brook no restraint. Each of the twelve
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