y heard a
bland voice saying, with the rustle of silk so dear to girlish ears:
"A superb thing, just opened; all the rage in Paris; very rare shade;
trying to most, as the lady says, but quite perfect for a blonde."

Rose was not listening to those words but to others which Aunt Clara had
lately uttered, laughed at then, but thought over more than once since.

"I'm tired of hearing people wonder why Miss Campbell does not dress
more. Simplicity is all very well for schoolgirls and women who can't
afford anything better, but you can, and you really ought. Your things
are pretty enough in their way, and I rather like you to have a style
of your own, but it looks odd and people will think you are mean if
you don't make more show. Besides, you don't do justice to your beauty,
which would be both peculiar and striking if you'd devote your mind to
getting up ravishing costumes."

Much more to the same effect did her aunt say, discussing the subject
quite artistically and unconsciously appealing to several of Rose's
ruling passions. One was a love for the delicate fabrics, colors, and
ornaments which refined tastes enjoy and whose costliness keeps them
from ever growing common; another, her strong desire to please the eyes
of those she cared for and gratify their wishes in the smallest matter
if she could. And last, but not least, the natural desire of a young and
pretty woman to enhance the beauty which she so soon discovers to be her
most potent charm for the other sex, her passport to a high place among
her maiden peers.

She had thought seriously of surprising and delighting everyone by
appearing in a costume which should do justice to the loveliness which
was so modest that it was apt to forget itself in admiring others what
girls call a "ravishing" dress, such as she could imagine and easily
procure by the magic of the Fortunatus' purse in her pocket. She
had planned it all, the shimmer of pale silk through lace like woven
frostwork, ornaments of some classic pattern, and all the dainty
accessories as perfect as time, taste, and money could make them.

She knew that Uncle Alec's healthful training had given her a figure
that could venture on any fashion and Nature blessed her with a
complexion that defied all hues. So it was little wonder that she felt
a strong desire to use these gifts, not for the pleasure of display, but
to seem fair in the eyes that seldom looked at her without a tender sort
of admiration, all t