miracle at all. I just took the advice of a chance acquaintance
and cheered up."

"Then please stay cheered up and keep this shape. I like it awfully."

"It's very hard to be cheerful when one is forgotten overnight," she
complained.

"There's some excuse for me. You didn't have on this--this angel-cloth
dress; and you looked so--"

"Dowdy," she put in promptly. "So you said--quite loud."

"Be merciful! I never did really get a good look at you, you know. Just
the tip of your nose--"

"Red."

"Help! And a glimpse of your face through a mess of veils--"

"Such a mess of a face."

"Spare my life! How can I apologize properly when you--"

"You're beyond all apology. Couldn't you at least recognize my voice?
I'm supposed, in spite of my facial defects, to have rather a pleasant
voice."

"But, you see, you didn't do anything but whisper--"

"And blubber. It isn't a pretty word, but I have it on good authority."

"I'll commit suicide by any method you select."

She regarded thoughtfully her downcast victim, and found him good to
look at. "So you prefer me in this form, do you?" she taunted.

"Infinitely. It couldn't be improved on. So if you've any more lightning
changes up your sleeve, don't spring 'em. What does this particular
manifestation of your personality call itself?"

"Little Miss Grouch."

"Don't be vengeful."

"Niobe, then."

"That was the changeling."

"At any rate, it isn't Amy, short for amiability. To you I shall
continue to be Little Miss Grouch until further notice."

"Is that my punishment?"

"Part of it."

"Well, I can stand it if you can," he declared recklessly. "What's the
rest?"

"I think," she said, after deliberating with herself, "that I shall
sentence you to slavery. You are to be at my beck and call until you've
attained a proper pitch of repentance and are ready to admit that I'm
not as hopelessly homely as you told your friend."

"Homely!" cried the harassed youth. "I think you're the most wond--hum!"
He broke off, catching himself just in time. "You say this slavery
business is to last until I make my recantation?" he inquired cunningly.

"At least."

He assumed a judicial pose. "Calls for consideration. Would you mind
tilting the face a little to the left?"

"Gracious! Another artist? Mr. Flaunt has been plaguing me all the
morning to sit to him."

"No, I'm not an artist. Simply a connoisseur. Now that I look more
closely, your eyebrows are slanted a fu