ase don't let me hear you do it again."

"Yes, ma'am," murmured Bridget, turning instantly from a friend into an
automaton, as was her custom on the rare occasions when I hardened
myself to find fault. The words were submissive enough, but her manner
announced that she had said her say, and would stick to it, though
Herself, poor thing, must be humoured when she took the high horse. As
usual, I retired from the conflict with a consciousness of coming off
second best!

The next day I told Charmion that I was "engaged," and true to our
delightful agreement, she asked no questions, but quietly disappeared
into space. Then, with a ponderous feeling of running the blockade, I
put on wig and spectacles and the venerable costume which had been
provided for the occasion. Appropriately enough, it had originally
belonged to an aunt--Aunt Eliza, to wit--who had handed it to me in its
mellowed age, to be bequeathed to one of my many _protegees_. It was
brown in colour--I detest brown, and it cordially detests me in return--
and by way of further offence the material was roughened and displayed a
mottled check. The cut was that of a country tailor, the coat
accentuating the curve of Aunt Eliza's back, while the skirt showed a
persistent tendency to sag at the back. When I fastened the last button
of the horror and surveyed myself in the glass, I chuckled sardonically
at the remembrance of heroines of fiction whose exquisite grace of
outline refused to be concealed by the roughest of country garments.
Certainly my grace did not survive the ordeal. What good looks I
possessed suffered a serious eclipse even before wig and spectacles went
on, and as a crowning horror, a venerable "boat-shaped" hat (another
relic of Aunt Eliza) and a draggled chenille veil.

Bridget was hysterical with enjoyment over the whole abject effect, but
I descended the stairs and passed through the great hall of the hotel
with a miserable feeling of running the blockade. Suppose I met anyone!
Suppose anyone _knew_ me! Suppose--I flushed miserably at the
thought--Charmion herself was discovered sitting in the hall, and raised
her lorgnon to quiz me as I passed by!

I need not have troubled. Not a soul blinked an eye in my direction.
If by chance a wandering glance met mine, it stared past and through me
as though I were impalpable as a ghost. My disguise was a success in
one important respect at least--there was no longer anything conspicuous
abo