alled the political
plaits. From the first evening of my introduction into society she had
established herself as my lady's maid. She took a generous delight in
dressing me up, and was as clever as she was kind about it. This
evening she seemed to have surpassed herself, as I judged by the
admiring exclamations of our younger sister Phillis--a good little
maid, who stood behind my chair with combs and pins in her hand as
Fatima's aide-de-camp. Finally, the dexterous fingers interwove some
sprays of ivy with the hair, and added white rosebuds for lack of
chrysanthemums.

"'Perfect!' Fatima exclaimed, stepping backwards with gestures of
admiration that were provokingly visible in the glass before which I
sat. 'And to think that it should be wasted on an uninteresting
tea-party! You will not wear your new muslin, of course?'

"'Indeed, I shall,' I answered. 'You know I always make myself smart
for the Cottage.' Which was true, and my reason for it was this. I
had once gone there to a quiet tea-party in a dress that was rather
too smart for the occasion, and which looked doubly gay by contrast
with the sombre costume of the elderly friends whom I met. I was
feeling vexed with myself for an error in taste, when Miss Mary came
up to me, and laying her hands affectionately on me, and smoothing my
ribbons, thanked me for having come in such a pretty costume.

"'You come in, my dear,' she said, 'like a fresh nosegay after winter.
You see we are old women, my love, and dress mostly in black, since
dear James's death; and our friends are chiefly elderly and
sombre-looking also. So it is a great treat to us to look at something
young and pretty, and remember when we were girls, and took pains with
such things ourselves.'

"'I was afraid I was too smart, Miss Mary,' I said.

"'To be sure it is a waste to wear your pretty things here,' Miss Mary
added; 'but you might let us know sometimes when you are going to a
grand party, and we will come and look at you.'

"I was touched by the humble little lady's speech, and by the thought
of how little one is apt to realize the fact that faded, fretful,
trouble-worn people in middle life have been young, and remember their
youth.

"Thenceforward I made careful toilettes for the Cottage, and this
night was not an exception to the rule.

"I was dressed early; my father was rather late, and we three girls
had nearly an hour's chat before I had to go.

"We began to discuss the merchant