We all went to our rooms after this, and in each of ours hung a full-length swinging mirror; I had never seen one before, except in a picture-shop or in a hotel. "Truly this is 'richness'!" I said, walking up and down and sideways from one to the other. "I had no idea you had so much vanity," said Frank, laughing at me, as he has done ever since he was born. "Vanity! not a spark. I am only seeing myself as others see me, for the first time." "I always had a glass like that in my room at home," said my sister-in-law, with the least morsel of disdain in her tone. "Had you? Then you have lost a great deal by growing up to such things. A first sensation at my age is delightful." Next day Rhoda and I were sitting with Mrs. Rayne in her dressing-room, with a great fan swinging overhead. We all had books in our hands, but I found more charming reading in my hostess, whose fascinations hourly grew upon me. She wore a long loose wrapper, clear blue in color, with little silver stars on it. I don't know how much of my admiration sprang from her perfect taste in dress. Raiment has an extraordinary effect on the whole machinery of life. Most people think too lightly of it. Somebody says if Cleopatra's nose had been a quarter of an inch shorter, the history of the world would have been utterly changed; but Antony might equally have been proof against a robe with high neck and tight sleeves. Mrs. Rayne's face always seemed to crown her costume like a rose out of green leaves, yet I cannot but think that if I had seen her first in a calico gown and sitting on a three-legged stool milking a cow, I should still have thought her a queen among women. While I sat like a lotos-eater, forgetful of home and butter-making, a servant brought in a parcel and a note. Mrs. Rayne tossed the note to me while she unfolded a roll of gray silk. Dear Guinevere: I send with this a bit of silk that old Fut'ali insisted on giving to me this morning. It is that horrid gray color which we both detest. I know you will never wear it, and you had better give it to Miss Blake to make a toga for her first appearance in the women's Senate. LANCELOT. "With all my heart!" said Mrs. Rayne as I gave back the note. "You will please us both far more than you can please yourself by wearing the dress with a thought of us. I wonder why Mr. Rayne calls me 'Guinevere'? But he has a new name for me every day, because he does not like my own." "What is it?" "Waitstill. Did you ever hear it?" "Never but once," I said with a sudden tightness in my throat. I could scarcely speak my thanks for the dress. "I should never wear it," said Mrs. Rayne: "the color is associated with a very painful part of my life." "Do you suppose water would spot it?" asked Rhoda, who is of a practical turn of mind. "Take a bit and try it."