eeve grew and grew from puffs
at the elbow to wide cuffs, to wide shoulders, until the entire sleeve
became swollen out of all proportion, and the last little pieces of
tightness were removed.

The form of dress with cuffs to the jackets, lacing, sashes, bunches
of ribbon, and looped up skirts, lasted for a great number of years.
It was started by the death of the fardingale, and it lived into the
age of hoops.

These ladies wore shoe-roses upon their shoes, and these bunches of
ribbon, very artificially made up, cost sometimes as much as from
three to thirty pounds a pair, these very expensive roses being
ornamented with jewels. From these we derive the saying, 'Roses worth
a family.'

In the country the women wore red, gray, and black cloth homespun, and
for riding they put on safeguards or outer petticoats. The
wide-brimmed beaver hat was in general wear, and a lady riding in the
country would wear such a hat or a hood and a cloak and soft top
boots.

Women's petticoats were called plackets as well as petticoats.

With the careless air that was then adopted by everybody, which was to
grow yet more carefully careless in the reign of Charles II., the hair
was a matter which must have undivided attention, and centuries of
tight dressing had not improved many heads, so that when the loose
love-locks and the dainty tendrils became the fashion, many good
ladies and gentlemen had recourse to the wigmaker. From this time
until but an hundred years ago, from the periwig bought for Sexton,
the fool of Henry VIII., down to the scratches and bobs of one's
grandfather's youth, the wigmaker lived and prospered. To-day, more
secretly yet more surely, does the maker of transformations live and
prosper, but in the days when to be wigless was to be undressed the
perruquier was a very great person.

[Illustration: A WOMAN OF THE TIME OF CHARLES I. (1625-1649)

Notice the broad collar and deep cuffs. The dress is simple but
rich. The bodice is laced with the same colour as the narrow sash.
The hair is arranged in a series of elaborate curls over the
forehead.]

This was the day, then, of satins, loosened hair, elbow sleeves, and
little forehead curls. The stiffness of the older times will pass
away, but it had left its clutch still on these ladies; how far it
vanished, how entirely it left costume, will be seen in the next royal
reign, when Nell Gwynne was favourite and Sir Peter Lely painted her.

ENGRAVING