Chapter 5
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. All day the wagons of fashionable milliners and costumiers 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, half 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 co
