ter the other foot.
"Ain't they lovely?" said Ellen to Mrs. Tucker, as they knelt
together at their task. "I never see such feet. Not a lump on
'em, but like feet in a picture."

"It takes a mighty good leg to look good in a white stocking,"
observed Mary. "But yours is so nice and long and slim that
they'd stand most anything."

Mrs. Tucker and Ellen stood by with no interference save
suggestion and comment, while Mary, who at one time worked for
a hairdresser, did Susan's thick dark hair. Susan would permit
no elaborations, much to Miss Hinkle's regret. But the three
agreed that she was right when the simple sweep of the vital
blue-black hair was finished in a loose and graceful knot at
the back, and Susan's small, healthily pallid face looked its
loveliest, with the violet-gray eyes soft and sweet and
serious. Mrs. Tucker brought the hat from the bed, and Susan
put it on--a large black straw of a most becoming shape with
two pure white plumes curling round the crown and a third, not
so long, rising gracefully from the big buckle where the three
plumes met. And now came the putting on of the dress. With as
much care as if they were handling a rare and fragile vase,
Mary and Mrs. Tucker held the dress for Susan to step into it.
Ellen kept her petticoat in place while the other two escorted
the dress up Susan's form.

Then the three worked together at hooking and smoothing. Susan
washed her hands again, refused to let Mrs. Tucker run and
bring powder, produced from a drawer some prepared chalk and
with it safeguarded her nose against shine; she tucked the
powder rag into her stocking. Last of all the gloves went on and
a small handkerchief was thrust into the palm of the left glove.

"How do I look?" asked Susan. "Lovely"--"Fine"--"Just grand,"
exclaimed the three maids.

"I feel awfully dressed up," said she. "And it's so hot!"

"You must go right downstairs where it's cool and you won't get
wilted," cried Mrs. Tucker. "Hold your skirts close on the
way. The steps and walls ain't none too clean."

In the bathroom downstairs there was a long mirror built into
the wall, a relic of the old house's long departed youth of
grandeur. As the tenant--Mr. Jessop--was out, Mrs. Tucker led
the way into it. There Susan had the first satisfactory look
at herself. She knew she was a pretty woman; she would have
been weak-minded had she not known it. But she was amazed at
herself. A touch here and there,