r sleek black
hair--raven black hair, and the only good thing about her appearance.

One ornament, and one only, had Seraphine ever been guilty of wearing,
and that was an old-fashioned half-hoop ring of Brazilian diamonds,
brilliants of the first water. This ring she called her yard measure;
and she was in the habit of using it as her Standard of purity, and
comparing it with any diamonds which her customers submitted to her
inspection. For the clever little dressmaker had a feeling heart for a
lady in difficulties, and was in the habit of lending money on good
security, and on terms that were almost reasonable as compared with the
usurious rates one reads of in the newspapers.

Lesbia's first sensation upon having this accomplished person presented
to her was one of shrinking and disgust. There was something sinister in
the sallow face, the small shrewd eyes, and long hooked nose, the
crooked figure, and claw-shaped hands. But when Madame Seraphine began
to talk about gowns, and bade her acolytes--smartly-dressed young women
with pleasing countenances--bring forth marvels of brocade and satin,
embroideries, stamped velvets, bullion fringes, and ostrich feather
flouncings, Lesbia became interested, and forgot the unholy aspect of
the high priestess.

Lady Kirkbank and the dressmaker discussed Lesbia's charms as calmly as
if she had been out of the room.

'What do you think of her figure?' asked Lady Kirkbank.

'One cannot criticise what does not exist,' replied the dressmaker, in
French. 'The young lady has no figure. She has evidently been brought up
in the country.'

And then with rapid bird-like movements, and with her head on one side,
Seraphine measured Lesbia's waist and bust, muttering little argotic
expressions _sotto voce_ as she did so.

'Waist three inches too large, shoulders six inches too narrow,' she
said decisively, and she dictated some figures to one of the damsels,
who wrote them down in an order-book.

'What does that mean?' asked Lesbia, not at all approving of such
cavalier treatment.

'Only that Seraphine will make your corsets the right size,' answered
Lady Kirkbank.

'What? Three inches too small for my waist, and six too wide for my
shoulders?'

'My love, you must have a figure,' replied Lady Kirkbank, conclusively.
'It is not what you are, but what you ought to be that has to be
considered.'

So Lesbia, the cool-headed, who was also the weak-minded, consented to
have her figu