'What! dressed already?' said May, as she leaned towards the glass, illuminated on either side with wax candles, and looked into the whiteness of her bosom. She wore a costume of Prussian-blue velvet and silk; the bodice (entirely of velvet) was pointed back and front, and a berthe of moresque lace softened the contrast between it and the cream tints of the skin. These and the flame-coloured hair were the spirits of the shadowy bedchamber; whereas Alice, in her white corded-silk, her clear candid eyes, was the truer Madonna whose ancient and inferior prototype stood on her bracket in a forgotten corner. 'Oh! how nice you look!' exclaimed May; 'I don't think I ever saw anyone look so pure.' Alice smiled; and, interpreting the smile, May said: 'I am afraid you don't think so much of me.' 'I am sure, May, you look very nice indeed, and just as you would like to look.' To May's excitable mind it was not difficult to suggest a new train of thought, and she immediately proceeded to explain why she had chosen her present dress. 'I knew that you, and Olive, and Violet, and Lord knows how many others would be in white, and, as we shall all have to wear white at the Drawing-Room, I thought I'd appear in this. But isn't the whole thing delightful? I am engaged already for several dances, and I have been practising the step all day with Fred.' Then, singing to herself, she waltzed in front of the glass at the immediate risk of falling into the bath: '"Five-and-forty spinsters baked in a pie! When the pie was opened the maids began to sing, Wasn't that a dainty dish to set before the King!" 'Oh, dear, there's my garter coming down!' and, dropping on to the sofa, the girl hitched up the treacherous article of dress. 'And tell me what you think of my legs,' she said, advancing a pair of stately calves. 'Violet says they are too large.' 'They seem to me to be all right; but, May dear, you haven't got a petticoat on.' 'You can't wear petticoats with these tight dresses; one can't move one's legs as it is.' 'But don't you think you'll feel cold--catch cold?' 'Not a bit of it; no danger of cold when you have shammy-leather drawers.' Then, overcome by her exuberant feelings, May began to sing: 'Five-and-forty spinsters baked in a pie,' etc. 'Five-and-forty,' she said, breaking off, 'have subscribed. I wonder how many will be married by this time next year? You know, I shouldn't care to be married all at once; I'd want to see the world a bit first. Even if I liked a man, I shouldn't care to marry him now; time enough in about three years' time, when one is beginning to get tired of flirtations and parties. I have often wondered what it must be like. Just fancy waking up and seeing a man's face on the pillow, or for--' 'No, no, May; I will not; you must not. I will not listen to these improper conversations!'