transaction of their business to her sister, and turned to contemplate the back of the handsome model. It was a slight shock to find that he was not so attractive from this point of view. The wig he wore was well made all round, but his shoulders were roughly finished in a substance that looked like plain plaster of Paris. “What can I have ze pleasure of showing you, young ladees?” asked a person who advanced; and Miss Lucinda faced about to discover a smiling, middle-aged Frenchman, who rubbed his hands together and looked at his customers, first one and then the other, with delightful deference. He seemed a very civil nice person, the young ladies thought. “My sister and I were thinking of buying some little arrangements to wear above the forehead.” Miss Dobin explained, with pathetic dignity; but the Frenchman spared her any further words. He looked with eager interest at the bonnets, as if no lack had attracted his notice before. “Ah, yes. _Je comprends_; ze high foreheads are not now ze mode. Je prefer them, moi, yes, yes, but ze ladees must accept ze fashion; zay must now cover ze forehead with ze frizzes, ze bangs, you say. As you wis’, as you wis’!” and the tactful little man, with many shrugs and merry gestures at such girlish fancies, pulled down one box after another. It was a great relief to find that this was no worse, to say the least, than any other shopping, though the solemnity and secrecy of the occasion were infringed upon by the great supply of “arrangements” and the loud discussion of the color of some crimps a noisy girl was buying from a young saleswoman the other side of the shop. Miss Dobin waved aside the wares which were being displayed for her approval. “Something—more simple, if you please,”—she did not like to say “older.” “But these are _très simple_,” protested the Frenchman. “We have nothing younger;” and Miss Dobin and Miss Lucinda blushed, and said no more. The Frenchman had his own way; he persuaded them that nothing was so suitable as some conspicuous forelocks that matched their hair as it used to be. They would have given anything rather than leave their breakfast caps at home, if they had known that their proper winter bonnets must come off. They hardly listened to the wig merchant’s glib voice as Miss Dobin stood revealed before the merciless mirror at the back of the shop.