tron of 37, who looked like a girl of 19, to a
friend who was vigorously rubbing her cheeks with a course towel after
a plentiful application of cold water.

"Yes, every time I come in from a walk, ride or drive. Why?"

"Well, no wonder you look older than you are. You are simply wearing
your face out!"

"But I must wash?"

"Certainly, but not like that. Take a leaf out of my book; never
wash you face just before going out into the fresh air, or just after
coming in. Nothing is more injurious to the skin. Come to the glass.
Do you notice a drawn look about your eyes and a general streakiness
in the cheeks? That is the result of your violent assault upon your
complexion just now. You look at this moment ten years older than you
did twenty minutes ago in the park."

"Well, I really do. I look old enough to be your mother; but then, you
are wonderful. You always look so young and fresh!"

"Because I never treat my poor face so badly as you do yours. I use
rain-water, and if I cannot get that, I have the water filtered. When
I dress for dinner I always wash my face with milk, adding just enough
hot water to make it pleasant to use. A very soft sponge and very fine
towel take the place of your terrible huckaback arrangement."

Two or three years ago a lady of Oriental parentage on her father's
side spent a season in London society. Her complexion was brown,
relieved by yellow, her features large and irregular, but redeemed
by a pair of lovely and expressive eyes. So perfect was her taste in
dress that she always attracted admiration wherever she went. Dressed
in rich dark brown or dullest crimsons or russets, so that no one
ever noticed much what she wore, she so managed that suggestions
and hints--no more--of brilliant amber or [Transcriber's Note: The
original text reads 'promegranate'] pomegranate scarlet should appear
just where they imparted brilliancy to her deep coloring, and abstract
the yellow from her skin. A knot of old gold satin under the rim of
her bonnet, another at her throat, and others in among the lace at her
wrists, brightened up the otherwise subdued tinting of her costume, so
that it always looked as though it had been designed expressly for her
by some great colorist. Here rouge was unnecessary. The surroundings
were arranged to suit the complexion, instead of the complexion to
suit the surroundings. There can be no doubt as to which is the method
which best becomes the gentlewoman.

In addit