send her to you in a minute."

Lilias ran out of the room, and Ermengarde, closing the door, opened a
long drawer at the bottom of the wardrobe, and taking out her white
_chiffon_ dress, viewed it with great complacency. This dress had been
given to Ermengarde by Aunt Elizabeth; she had brought it from Paris,
intending to wear it at a county ball herself, but finding it too
juvenile, she had handed it on to her niece. The local dressmaker had
cut it down to fit Ermengarde, and ever since she possessed it, Ermie
had sighed and longed for the occasion when she might don the lovely
robe.

The dress was in truth an exquisite one; it was delicately spangled
with what looked like dewdrops, and had a great deal of rich soft silk
introduced here and there, but if it was too young for Aunt Elizabeth,
it was a great deal too old for Ermie. It's voluminous and graceful
pillows of white were not suited to her slim little figure. It was a
grown girl's dress, and Ermie was only a child.

Still the occasion, the longed-for, the sighed-for occasion, when she
might dress herself in Aunt Elizabeth's white _chiffon_, had arrived.

Ermie pulled the dress out of the drawer, shook out its folds, and
regarded it with rapture.

There came a modest knock at the room door, and Petite, got up in
truly French fashion, entered. She was a rosy-cheeked, round-faced
girl, with sparkling black eyes, and rolls of black hair,
picturesquely arranged on the top of her head.

"I hope she understands English," thought Ermengarde. "French is not
my strong point, and I really must get her to dress my hair in some
grown-up fashion to-night."

Petite soon, however, relieved Ermengarde's fear.

"I have come to help you, ma'mselle," she said in her cheerful tones.
"Will you let me brush out your hair?"

"Thank you," said Ermie. "I want you to dress it on the top of my
head, please--_high_--something like an old picture--you understand?"

Petite's eyes sparkled.

"I know what you mean," she said. "Pouffed, ever so--like the pictures
of the ancient ladies in the picture-gallery."

"Yes," said Ermengarde. "I want my hair to be arranged like a young
grown-up lady. You understand?"

"Perfectly, ma'mselle. I will go and fetch hair-pins. But we haven't
too much time; Ma'mselle Lilias is dressed. She wears her hair
straight down her back."

Ermengarde said nothing. The mysteries of the toilet proceeded, and at
the end of half an hour Lilias knocked at he