ith a nameless fear, turn out the gas
and leave myself in darkness. I make two vain dashes for the stair; a
third, and I have found it. I grope for the heavy rail and go rapidly
up, two steps at a time, and finally, out of breath, badly frightened,
reach my room. What a relief! I turn on the light--two, three, yes, four
burners, and wish for more. I stir up the fire into a blaze; look over
my left shoulder, but see nothing; listen, but hear nothing. I wheel
my dressing-table near by; seat myself before the pretty oval mirror.
I tear off those ugly blossoms, sent by that stupid man for me to wear;
I look long and earnestly at the tired face I see reflected in the pretty
oval mirror, with its beveled edges and dainty drapery of pink silk and
pure white mull. It is not a pretty face; even my friends do not think
me beautiful. Yet I sometimes fancy--alas! perhaps it is only a
fancy--that I have on my face a suggestion of beauty, even if beauty
itself be absent. My eyes are full and dark, with long lashes; my mouth
is somewhat large, not a good shape either, and some people--who do not
like me--say that they can easily detect a hard, cold expression which
does not please them. But my profile is good in spite of my ill-featured
mouth, and there is--generally acknowledged--a certain high-born,
well-bred look about the poise of my shapely head which gains for me
more than a mere passing notice. My manners are pronounced "charming,"
and by many--those who like me--charmingly faultless. So, after all, in
spite of this lack of a positive style of beauty, I am what might be
termed a "social success." But it is a social success which I have
slowly gained, with much labor, and its duration is somewhat uncertain.
I am just beginning to be sure of myself, although this is my fourth
winter out. True, I have almost always had an escort to every thing
given, but I have never been able to fully assert myself. Now, wherever
I go, I boldly, and without fear, seek out some comfortable place in
some one room, at reception, party, or ball, and rest assured that all
of my now-many friends and half dozen or more lovers will seek me out,
and having found me, will linger about me the entire evening; and if
I like, I need not even move from that one pleasant place during the
entertainment, but have my supper brought to me and the two or three
other girls who make up our set, for you know it is so disagreeable to
crowd into the supper-room; it is a vul