"We wish to be impersonal," said Madame Florence. "Our establishment is called The Dressing-Room, that is sufficient for our purpose, and as we must have some distinguishing mark, my partner and I are Madame Florence and Madame Cynthia, and our helpers are Miss Margaret, Miss Bertha and Miss Violet. It gives us a personality here which has nothing to do with our private personality. We find that it works excellently well." She broke off as Miss Margaret came back into the room carrying a large box. Regina chose a set of combs and Madame Florence adjusted them in her hair, taking away the cheaper ones with which she had first dressed it. "Now," she said, "you may find your toque a little difficult--well, I should like to see your toque on." The effect was terrible, for Regina's toques were never things of beauty, and this one was less beautiful than most of her headgear. "It is impossible!" "Well, it is rather impossible. Forgive me for saying so, but how could you buy such a thing?" "Madame Florence," said Regina, "you are a lady." "I hope so; I have always believed myself to be such." "I recognized it. I recognize it still more as I remain in your presence. I will be frank with you, I will be candid. I see you have a copy of the _Illustrated Ladies' Joy_ on the table. I should like to speak to you alone," she said in an undertone. Madame Florence gave a look at the younger lady, which she interpreted, and immediately disappeared from the room. "I may speak to you in confidence?" "Certainly." "Give me the number of the _Illustrated Ladies' Joy_ for the week before last." "Certainly. Here it is." Regina turned with trembling fingers to the answers to correspondents on matters connected with the toilette. "Read that," she said, pointing to the answer which was headed "broken-hearted Miranda." "I am that woman; I am 'broken-hearted Miranda.'" "Dear, dear, dear," said Madame Florence, "are you really sure that it is so?" "I am afraid so. My husband is the noblest of men--generous, brave, true-hearted--he has been got hold of, Madame Florence." "And you must get him back again," said Madame Florence in sharp staccato accents. "You are a good-looking woman, a little stout, but that can be got rid of by judicious means." "I have taken means; I have just bought some of Madame Winifred Polson's little brown tablets." "Two guineas' worth?" "Yes." "I would not take them if I were you. They will eat away the lining of your stomach, they will make you dyspeptic, they will perforate your bowels and do all sorts of horrible things. They are made of iodine and sea wrack. Put them into the fire, my dear lady." "But I paid two guineas for them," said Regina. Madame Florence laughed. "Well, take them home with you if you like, and look at them occasionally and say 'These cost me two guineas,' but don't take them. If you want to get thin, go to a medical man who thoroughly understands the science of food and fat--or fat and food."