n of rouge, which is traveling from room to
room.)

Five minutes more, another knock.

"If you please, Mr. Parker's compliments, and will Lady Tempest lend him
a hair-pin to black his eyelashes?"

I am finished now, quite finished--metamorphosed. I have suffered a
great deal in the process of powdering, as I fancy every one must have
done since the world began; the powder has gone into my eyes, up my
nose, down into my lungs. I have breathed it, and sneezed it, and
swallowed it, but "_il faut souffrir pour etre belle_," and I do not
grumble; for I _am_ belle! For once in my life I know what it feels like
to be a pretty woman. My uninteresting flax-hair is hidden. Above the
lowness of my brow there towers a great white erection, giving me height
and dignity, while high aloft a little cap of ancient lace and soft pink
roses daintily perches. On my cheeks there is a vivid yet delicate
color; and my really respectable eyes are emphasized and accentuated by
the dark line beneath them. To tell you the truth, I cannot take my eyes
off myself. It is _delightful_ to be pretty! I am simpering at myself
over my left shoulder, and heartily joining in my maid's encomiums on
myself, when the door opens, and Roger enters. For the first instant I
really think that he does not recognize me. Then--

"_Nancy!_" he exclaims, in a tone of the most utter and thorough
astonishment--"_is_ it Nancy?"

"_Nancy_, at your service!" reply I, with undisguised elation, looking
eagerly at him, with my blackened eyes, to see what he will say next.

"But--what--_has_--happened--to you?" he says, slowly, looking at me
exhaustively from top to toe--from the highest summit of my floured head
to the point of my buckled shoes. "What have you got yourself up like
this for?"

"To please Mr. Parker," reply I, breaking into a laugh of excitement.
"But I have killed two birds with one stone; I have pleased _myself_,
too! Did you ever see any thing so nice as I look?" (unable any longer
to wait for the admiration which is so justly my due).

"Not often!" he answers, with emphasis.

We had parted rather formally--rather _en delicatesse_--this morning,
but we both seem to have forgotten this.

"I must not dance _much_!" say I, anxiously turning again to the glass,
and closely examining my complexion--"must I?--or my rouge will _run_!"

After a moment--

"You must be sure to tell me if I grow to look at all _smeary_, and I
will run up-stairs at once, a