Beth sighed, a long breath of emotion. “I’ve read about earls and countesses all my life and I’ve seen pictures of them going around with coronets and long velvet gowns, in ballads and English history, but I never, never in all this world expected to have some one do my hair and brush it till it was better than the beautiful hair of a real, live countess, whose hair she had brushed before mine! Frieda, there isn’t a single thing, not one single thing, I honestly believe, that is in a story-book that doesn’t come out of it and get into my true story this winter! Nor in fairy stories, either. When I go back home again I’m pretty near sure I won’t know whether I was a real girl this winter, or one I read about.” For once Frieda permitted herself to laugh outright. “There couldn’t be a story too good for you, Miss Beth dear,” she said. “And as to noble ladies in Europe they’re not so much different. A fine lady is a fine lady; if you call her just ‘Miss’ and she’s an American, or if you call her ‘my lady’ and she’s something else. She’s only a lady all the same and it makes nothing out what you call her. Mrs. Cortlandt is a far grander lady to my thinking than the cross mother of my little Lady Elise over there, not to speak of how handsome the one is and how awful plain the other was. It’s likely there’ll be some nobility from Europe dining with your aunt this winter; they’re often over, and you’ll see lords and ladies are just like Mister and Missuses.” “Then I’d rather not see them,” said Beth decidedly. “I should not want to stop thinking a noble earl was above a man. Only I do think Uncle Jim could be a king and not be one bit more splendid than he is as his regular self.” Beth, her hair in perfect order, insisted upon being allowed to finish her toilette unaided while Frieda made herself ready for their expedition. The result was that young mistress and maid were ready at the same time. Beth ran down to her aunt’s room to report herself dressed and Frieda repaired to the maids’ sitting-room to wait till she should be called. Beth found Anna Mary folding a soft pink wrapper and packing it into a suit-case in which already lay lace-trimmed white garments and some attractive looking books. Anna Mary’s face expressed grim disapproval, but in reality she had eagerly sorted out these gifts for Liebchen and she felt pleasure in making them ready to go to her. Aunt Alida gathered up her splendid furs, nestling her chin into their cloudy softness as she smiled over them at Beth. “I have had Anna Mary get together some outgrown garments which belonged to Alys,” she said. “They should be nearly the right size for Frieda’s little sister. And the girls selected a few of their fairy tales and a story they thought Liebchen would enjoy. Mrs. Hodgman is having a basket of fruit and jellies made ready. Shall we go now, Beth dear?”