asual
survey, conveyed an impression that it was available for almost any
purpose save the adornment of the feminine person. In its hours of
perfect order nothing pertaining to the toilet was visible; even the
inevitable mirrors with their accessories were arranged in a roomy
recess not noticeable from the door, lighted by a window of its own,
called the dressing-window.
The washing-stand figured as a vast oak chest, carved with grotesque
Renaissance ornament. The dressing table was in appearance something
between a high altar and a cabinet piano, the surface being richly
worked in the same style of semi-classic decoration, but the
extraordinary outline having been arrived at by an ingenious joiner and
decorator from the neighbouring town, after months of painful toil in
cutting and fitting, under Miss Aldclyffe's immediate eye; the materials
being the remains of two or three old cabinets the lady had found in the
lumber-room. About two-thirds of the floor was carpeted, the remaining
portion being laid with parquetry of light and dark woods.
Miss Aldclyffe was standing at the larger window, away from the
dressing-niche. She bowed, and said pleasantly, 'I am glad you have
come. We shall get on capitally, I dare say.'
Her bonnet was off. Cytherea did not think her so handsome as on the
earlier day; the queenliness of her beauty was harder and less warm.
But a worse discovery than this was that Miss Aldclyffe, with the usual
obliviousness of rich people to their dependents' specialities, seemed
to have quite forgotten Cytherea's inexperience, and mechanically
delivered up her body to her handmaid without a thought of details, and
with a mild yawn.
Everything went well at first. The dress was removed, stockings and
black boots were taken off, and silk stockings and white shoes were
put on. Miss Aldclyffe then retired to bathe her hands and face, and
Cytherea drew breath. If she could get through this first evening, all
would be right. She felt that it was unfortunate that such a crucial
test for her powers as a birthday dinner should have been applied on the
threshold of her arrival; but set to again.
Miss Aldclyffe was now arrayed in a white dressing-gown, and dropped
languidly into an easy-chair, pushed up before the glass. The instincts
of her sex and her own practice told Cytherea the next movement. She let
Miss Aldclyffe's hair fall about her shoulders, and began to arrange it.
It proved to be all real; a sa
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