"But, madam, it is only half-past five! Dinner—dinner is at eight."
Monica turned away coldly, and seated herself upon the ottoman, which stood in the center of the room.
"I will dress now," she said finally.
Margaret understood her charge. It was useless to protest when Monica's mind was made up. So she set about her work at once.
Monica watched her as she threw open the wardrobes. Her eyes followed her as she vanished to prepare the bath. But it was not with any interest. The girl's movements simply conveyed a sense of activity to her. That was all. But it helped her. It helped her, in the midst of her teeming thought, as nothing else could have done.
She endured the process of her toilet like one in a dream. Nor was it until it came to the necessary selection of a gown that she displayed any real interest. Then she roused herself and startled Margaret with her peevish indecision. Nothing seemed to please her. Several new gowns, just home from the extravagant costumer, who poured "creations" upon her, were flung ruthlessly aside before the girl's dismayed eyes. She would have none of them, and Margaret was at her wit's end.
There were only a few simple black gowns left, and Margaret hated black. But what was she to do? She produced them, being careful, at the same time, to display her own disapproval. Promptly selection was made. Monica knew the value of soft black chiffon against her beautiful fair hair and fairer skin. No one knew it better.
Another uncomfortable half hour was spent while the girl dressed her mistress's hair. Never had Monica been so difficult to please. But even this was finally satisfactorily achieved, and Margaret sighed her relief.
However, her surprises were not yet done with. There was still another forthcoming. Monica surveyed herself in the mirror. She gazed at herself from every point of view. She beheld a perfectly molded figure, unusually tall, with the delicious tint of flesh like alabaster glowing warmly through the gauzy folds of the simple black chiffon of which her gown was composed. She saw a face that was slightly pale, but of exquisite, mature beauty. She saw eyes of a deep blue, full of warmth, full of that precious suggestion of passionate possibilities which no man can witness unmoved. And even in those moments of trouble she knew that she had done well in her choice of gowns. She knew that she was very beautiful.
She turned at last to the waiting girl, who was gazing at her in open admiration.