"Oh, who cares?" cried Jenny, flouncing upstairs out of the room. When she came down again, she was dressed to go out.
"You're never going out in broad daylight?" asked May.
"Let her go," said Mrs. Raeburn. "Her hat covers it up a bit. I only hope if we have company, she'll have the goodness to keep her hat on all the time."
"Oh, yes, that would be a game of mine. I don't think!" protested Jenny.
The latter's belief in herself was restored by the attitude of the dressing-room. The girls all vowed the change improved her. There was an epidemic of peroxide, and Irene actually tarnished her own rich copper with the dye, so that for a while her hair seemed streaked with verdigris. Moreover, the unnatural fairness wore off as the weeks went by, and at last even the family was compelled to admit that she had not made a mistake. Only Alfie remained unconvinced, declaring she deserved a hiding for messing herself about. As for the suitors, they ran faster than before, but never swiftly enough to catch Jenny.
"I'm bound to get off with a nice young chap, now," she told the girls. "I wish I could fall in love."
"How would you like my Willie?" asked Elsie Crauford proudly.
"Your Willie? I don't think he's anything to tear oilcloth over."
"Didn't you think he looked nice in his evening dress?"
"Your Willie's never bought himself an evening dress! What! Girls, listen. The Great Millionaire's bought himself an evening dress."