“That is exactly why I have come”—her tone was pathetic in its eagerness. “How would you advise me to wear it?”
“I don’t know, I never like to give an opinion off-hand. I’ll brush it thoroughly, see how it lies, study you face and figure—”
“Oh—my figure!” said Regina.
“Why, what is the matter with it?”
“Too fat,” Regina sighed.
“Too fat? I’d be glad of a little of your complaint,” said the little woman, who was herself about as fat as a match.
“But I am too fat,” Regina cried.
“Well, perhaps you might do with a little less, but I shouldn’t overdo it in the other direction. Of course, there is no doubt that good-looking women are generally those who are inclined to be stout, but keep themselves within reasonable limits. They have the best skin, the best hair, they have so few lines and so few wrinkles, and they escape the withered look of age.”
She was brushing softly yet vigorously at Regina’s soft brown locks.