“Very well, auntie; but you'll come up to-morrow to see me in my dress?”
The next day was Saturday, a holiday of course. Stephanotie had put her hair into Hinde's curlers the night before, and, in consequence, it was a perfect mass of frizzle and fluff the next morning. Miss Truefitt, who wore her own neat gray locks plainly banded round her head, gave a shudder when she first caught sight of Stephanotie.
“I was thinking, dear, during the night,” she said, “of your pink silk dress, and I should very much prefer you to wear the gray cashmere trimmed with the neat velvet at the cuffs and collar. It would tone down your—”
“Oh, don't say it,” said Stephanotie; “my hair is a perfect glory this morning. Come yourself and look at it—here; stand just here; the sun is shining full on me. Everyone will have to look twice at me with a head like this.”
“Indeed, that is true,” said Miss Truefitt; “and perhaps three times; and not approve of you then.”
“Oh, come, auntie, you don't know how bewitching I look when I am got up in all my finery.”
“She is hopelessly vulgar,” thought poor Miss Truefitt to herself; “and I always supposed Agnes would have such a nice, proper girl, such as she was herself in the old days; but that last photograph of Agnes shows a decided falling off. How truly glad I am that I was never induced to marry an American! I would rather have my neat, precise little house and a small income than go about like a figure of fun. That poor child will never be made English; it is a hopeless task. The sooner she goes back to America the better.”
Meanwhile Stephanotie wandered about the house, thinking over and over of the happy moment when she would appear at The Laurels. She thought it best to put on her rose-colored dress in time for early dinner. It fitted her well, but was scarcely the best accompaniment to her fiery-red hair.
“Oh, lor', miss!” said Maria, the servant, when she first caught sight of Stephanotie.
“You may well say, 'Oh, lor'!' Maria,” replied Stephanotie, “although it is not a very pretty expression. But have a bon-bon; I don't mean to be cross.”