to be
ashamed of, to wear sackcloth and ashes for, and I am preparing to put
my foot on it all. Ay, from the snake's head of first discovery to the
snake's tail of the last disappointment, ranging over half a dozen
years! A long serpent, truly!" laughing. "But I mean to be galvanized
and get back my life. I am determined to be famous, rich, beautiful!"
and she nodded to me with the old sweet sparkle in her eye, the glad
smile on her lip.

"You laugh at the last threat!--laugh on! 'He who laughs best, laughs
last!' says the old proverb. There is such a thing as training one's
features, isn't there, as well as one's setters? Miriam, I shall develop
slowly; I am still in my very downiest adolescence as to looks. You will
see me when I have filled out and ripened, and when I put on my grand
Marie Antoinette _tenu_, some day! Hair drawn back, _a la Pompadour_,
powdered with gold-dust; a touch of rouge, perhaps, on either cheek;
ruffles of rich lace at shoulders and elbows; pink brocade and emeralds,
picked out with diamonds! Mr. Mortimer's teachings in every graceful
movement! It will be all humbug, for I have no real beauty, not much
grace; but people will think me beautiful and graceful for all that,
while I wear my costumes. They are several--this is only one--all highly
becoming! I have a vision of a sea-green dress and moss-roses; of a
violet-satin robe, trimmed and twisted everywhere with flowers of yellow
jasmine; of pale-gold and tipped marabouts in my hair; also of an azure
silk with blond and pearls and a tiara on my forehead" (she laughed
archly). "You don't know my capabilities, my dear, for appearing to look
well--they are wonderful!"

"The very prospect transfigures you, Bertie. I am glad you are so
courageous."

"Were you courageous when you clung to your ropes on the sea-tossed
raft! No, Miriam! that was instinct--nothing more; and I, too, have very
strong intuitions of self-preservation. Heaven grant that they may be
successful! Let us pray."

And, with moving lips and down-drawn lids, from beneath which the large
tears stole one by one, like crystal globes, this suffering spirit
communed with its God, silently.

So best, I felt! Bertie was only a lip-deep scoffer. Her heart was open
to conviction yet, and, when the time came, I believed that the seed
sown in old days would germinate and bear good harvest. All was chaos
now!

Shall I keep on with Bertie, now that the theme has possession of me,
and