Madame submitted, not because she cared to have her hair done, but because she liked to be "fussed over," as she put it. There was something very pleasant in the touch of Edith's cool, soft hands.
"You're—you're not going to change the way I do it, are you?" she asked, a little anxiously.
"No, indeed! I wouldn't change it for anything. It suits you just as it is."
"I'm glad you think so, for I've always worn it like this. Alden wouldn't know me if I became fashionable."
It Isn't Right
"He doesn't look a bit like you," said Edith, irrelevantly.
"No, but he's the living image of his father, and I'm very glad. It keeps me from—from missing him too much," Madame's voice broke a little on the last words.
"It must be lovely to be missed," said Edith, quickly. "Now I——"
"Dear, haven't you told him yet?"
"He's probably discovered it by this time. Still, I don't know—I've only been away a week."