Seize at his worst, considered good enough for a bedroom; at the
drapings of the enormous bed; at the portiere covering the door of Sir
Samuel's dressing-room; at the kaleidoscopic claret-and-blue figures on
the carpet; in fact, at everything within reach of my eyes except Mr.
Herbert Stokes.

"I've nothing to say that she can't hear," said he, virtuously. "I only
wanted to know if you'd like to see the gardens? The marquise sent me to
ask. Several people who haven't been here before are goin'. It's a lot
warmer this mornin', so you won't freeze."

Lady Turnour said that she would go, and ordered me to find her hat and
coat. As I turned to get them, Bertie smiled at me again, and threw me a
last glance as he followed my mistress out of the room.

I begin to be afraid there is an innate vanity in me which nothing can
thoroughly eradicate without tearing me up by the roots; for when I was
ready to alter that red dress, instead of trying to make it look as
ridiculous as possible, something forced me to do my best, to study
fitness and becomingness. I do hope this is self-respect and not
vanity; but to hope that is, I fear, like believing in a thing which you
know isn't true.

I worked all the morning at ensmalling the gown (if one can enlarge, why
can't one ensmall?) and by luncheon time it was finished. I had seen
Jack at breakfast, but had no chance for a word with him alone, although
he succeeded valiantly in keeping other chauffeurs, and valets, from
making my acquaintance. As I stopped only long enough for a cup of
coffee and a roll, I didn't give him too much trouble; but at luncheon
it was different. Everyone was chattering about the ball in the evening
(a privilege promised, it seemed, as a reward for hard work on the
occasion of a real ball above stairs), and house servants and visitors
alike were all so gay and good-natured that it would have been stupid to
snub them. Jack saw this, and though he protected me as well as he could
in an unobtrusive way, he put out no bristles.

The general excitement was contagious, and if it hadn't been for the
panic I was in about the duchess, I should have thrown myself wholly
into the spirit of the hive, buzzing like the busiest bee in it. Even as
it was, I couldn't help entering into the fun of the thing, for it was
fun in its queer way. Something like being on the stage of a third-rate
theatre in the midst of a farce, where the actors mistake you for one of
themselves,