“Very well, I’ll go through with this thing, now that I’ve started—have it your own way.” Marjorie settled down resignedly, clenching her fists as if preparing for a serious operation. When the brows were carefully arched, Marie started in with the bottles. First, the grayish complexion was transformed into a pearly whiteness, to which was added a slight tinge of blush rose, from a tiny jar, at the sight of which Marjorie shuddered inwardly and closed her eyes. Then came a touch of carmine to the lips, and a carefully studied tracing of mascara to the eyes. “_S’il vous plait_, Madame. Do not look in ze mirror until aftair I have you feenish. I want zat it be—surprise.” Marie began a vigorous brushing of the heavy strands of hair, the lifelessness of which she remedied considerably with a little brilliantine. After arranging a most becoming and modish coiffeur, she entered the clothes closet and carefully surveyed the dresses. “_Mon Dieu_,” Marie groaned inwardly, as her eyes wandered over the rows of unattractive garments. Finally, after much deliberation, she selected a gown of black lace. The skirt with its double flounce swept the ground evenly, and the V-shaped neck was filled in with silk net, which formed a high collar, boned to run up behind the ears. The same material was gathered from the elbow sleeve of lace to the wrist. “Now, Madame will please to slip on ze dress while I make ze alteration.” Marjorie stood patiently, while Marie measured and pinned up the flounces so that they hung gracefully just above the ankles. “So zat is bettair. Madame will sit here and relax.” Marie wrapped a dressing-gown about her mistress and seated her in a comfortable lounging chair. “It will take me about half an hour for ze work. In Mees Elinor’s room I have all ze things necessaire, so I feex heem in zere,” the maid explained. When Marie had departed with the dress, Marjorie tilted her head comfortably against the headrest of the chair and gazed intently at the ceiling. “How surprised the family will be when I go down to dinner,” she reflected anticipatingly. Hugh would be pleased, she felt sure. He had urged her so often to try to modernize her ideas. Of course, her awakening as to his short-comings had been somewhat rude and sudden, but she would try to think it had been for the best. Perhaps they would drift back again into their old days of love and devotion. She smiled wryly as she thought how Howard’s tactless little speech had done more for her than all of Hugh’s pleadings and Elinor’s criticisms. Further reflection was cut short by Marie’s enthusiastic entrance. “Oh, Madame,” she exclaimed in her enthusiastic way, “ze dress is magnifique! I hafe feex heem so good—no, no,” holding it behind her as Marjorie attempted to examine it. “First I will put heem on you and zen you shall—see!” “All right, I’ll close my eyes.” Marjorie laughed, as Marie slipped the gown over her head. “Now—Madame will please to look.”