"My poor broken-hearted Miranda," the reply ran, "how grieved and sorry I am for you! Are you sure that your conjectures are correct? I have known wives who made themselves very unhappy on very small grounds--not that I wish to imply that your grounds for uneasiness are small, but are you quite sure? If I were you I would take every means of finding out. With regard to what you tell me of yourself, I can see you, my poor Miranda, in my mind's eye, and I hasten to assure you that, whether you are right or wrong, you will not regret taking yourself in hand in the beauty sense. For your adipose tissue, I would recommend you to try Madame Winifred Polson's little brown tablets. They are wonderful in their effect on stout figures, particularly in reducing bulk below the waist. If you begin them, be sure that you give them a very good trial, and that you carry out her instructions fully and to the very letter. Now, for your complexion, I can advise you no better than to go to Madame Alvara. You needn't be the least nervous of going to her, as it is not a shop, but she has an elegant private house on the best side of Grosvenor Square. You will probably meet three duchesses on the stairs, and may have to wait some time, unless you make an appointment. Place yourself unreservedly in Madame Alvara's hands; she will restore to you the skin of your childhood. For your hair--well, that is difficult. I think you ought to write to me again and tell me what kind of hair you have, whether it is thin or grey, that I may advise you whether to go to a hair specialist or an artiste in _toupes_. Write to me again, my dear Miranda, and pray believe that nothing is too much trouble if I have the reward of knowing that I have helped you to your legitimate end." Involuntarily Regina put up her hands and passed them over her head. She had let her hair take care of itself--that did not mean that she was grey or that she had a mere whisp; she had thick and luxuriant hair, turned back from her face and done into a simple coil at the turn of the head. "I will not write to-day," she said to herself; "I will go and see the face specialist and the beauty specialist, and I will pay a visit to the lady of the little brown tablets, and then I will go to my tailor. Something I must have to wear every day. If I get a smart coat and skirt, something loose and _chic_, I can put off the rest of my wardrobe until I have got my figure down to its normal size." She went into the hall intending to leave a message with the cook for Julia, but the parlor-maid happened to be going through the dining-room to the pantry with a tray of silver things in her hands. "Oh, Margaret, tell Miss Julia I shall, in all probability, not be in to lunch, and tell her not to wait for me. She will be occupied during the rest of the day." "Very good, ma'am."