“Do I look happy? I'm glad of that,” And Polly surveyed herself with care.
Both young men thought it was girlish vanity and smiled at its naive display, but Polly was looking for something deeper than beauty and was glad not to find it.
“Rather a pleasant little prospect, hey, Polly?”
“My bonnet is straight, and that's all I care about. Did you ever see a picture of Beau Brummel?” asked Polly quickly.
“No.”
“Well, there he is, modernized.” And turning the fan, she showed him himself.
“Any more portraits in your gallery?” asked Sydney, as if he liked to share all the nonsense going.
“One more.”
“What do you call it?”
“The portrait of a gentleman.” And the little glass reflected a gratified face for the space of two seconds.