Then Mrs. King’s face grew quiet as she said,
“Those are two girls of whom we are very fond here, but I am so sorry to see Jessie doing as she is. No, Julia, she is not pretty. She has painted her face and all her natural beauty is hidden. Usually she is very 101 attractive. Her friend’s face is sweet and clean. Evidently she does not care to attract attention to herself by the use of paint and rouge. She believes in being true to her best self even though she is not in the height of style. When you have lived longer, you will know, dear, the truth of what I say.”
Poor Julia. Her face burned like fire. Mrs. King had said “My friend Julia,” yet she, too, had paint on her face—not red like the girl in front, to be sure, but it was there. Why had no one told her before? All the girls did it and she thought it was the thing to do. Then there came to her an impulse to ask Mrs. King about it, so she said frankly,
“Mrs. King, I have some paint on my face, too, but I put it on because I was coming out with you. I thought you would like to have me look my very best.”
“Indeed I do, girlie,” said Mrs. King, putting her hand on the hand of the girl opposite her. “Indeed I do want you to look your best. I have liked you ever since I came to Hillcrest to live and it has hurt me to see you trying to do as all the other girls did. I have wished so often that you would be a leader in doing the finer things and help others to see what real beauty is and how to get it. Real beauty is not put on from the outside; it grows from within.”
Julia looked at Mrs. King’s sweet, loving face very hard for a minute and then said,
“I have liked you, too, and I have watched you go back and forth, wishing I could be like you. Will you show me how? Mother has tried but I thought she did not know. No one else has ever tried to tell me about your kind of beauty.”
So they made the compact. Then they sat and watched for well-dressed women; for women in whose faces there was strength of character and purpose; for 102 girls whose very manner showed they were ladies; for men who honored the girls in whose company they were. Such fun as it was! Julia never knew the time to go so fast. It was so plain now that clothes did not necessarily make the lady. She was almost sorry when it came time to go home.
In the house, a great fire was burning and it looked so cozy.
“I have looked into your windows many times as I have passed and wished I could sit before the fire and dream and dream,” said the girl. “May I sit down here for a while?”