, and is absolutely ready to go out, she
will begin to fret and potter about in her room for another hour. She
goes from looking-glass to looking-glass. That is the time when she
thinks of the finishing touches.

She pulls her hat a little more to the right, then a little more to the
left, in order to ascertain how that hat can be improved. She touches
and retouches her hair.

Her complexion is beautiful, a natural rosy pink, for which she ought to
return thanks, all day long, to the most generous and kind Nature who
gave it to her. But, at the last moment, she thinks that this, too,
might be improved.

So she rubs her cheeks and puts more powder on them. The rubbing makes
her cheeks so red that she has to subdue the colour. She works and
works, and now takes it into her head that, being warm, her nose must be
shining.

She takes the puff and puts powder on it. An hour before she was a woman
who, in your eyes at all events, could not very well be improved.

Now she is ready, and emerges from her apartment. Her hair is undone
behind and ruffed in front, her hat is too straight, and her face looks
made-up. The rubbing has changed her lovely pink complexion into a sort
of theatrical purple red.

You feel for her, because, being very proud of her complexion, you do
not want your friends--you do not want anybody--to say: 'Oh, she is
made-up.' And you own that she looks it, and altogether she does not
look half so well as she did when she had finished dressing, and had not
begun the finishing touches.

Beware, ladies! Many a most beautiful woman has been spoiled by the
finishing touches.

CHAPTER IV

THE SELFISHNESS OF SORROW

Real sorrow is no more expressed by the correctness of a mourning attire
and the despair written on a face than true religious fervour is
expressed by the grimaces that are made at prayer-time.

Just as we are told in the Gospel to look cheerful and not to frown and
make faces when we pray, just so, I believe, those who have gone before
us would advise us not to advertise the sorrow we feel at their loss,
but keep it in restraint, and not surround ourselves, and especially not
compel those who are living with us to be surrounded, with gloom.

The outward signs of sorrow are often exaggerated and not uncommonly
nothing but acts of selfishness. The memory of the departed is better
respected by control over the most sincere sorrow, and children, young
ones especially, who cannot at