ringlet descended to her waist, or swayed gently on the breeze as
she moved across the room. Madame B. was beautiful, distinguished,
piquante; and this little Frau Schimpf, who sat beside her, was a
short, stout dumpy woman unmistakably German, clad in an impossible
and brilliant tartan, and given to loud speech and laughter, and the
questionable habit of dipping into the salt before her the knife which
in the intervals of cutting up her meat, occasionally found its way
into her mouth. Frau Schimpf was willing to chatter to anyone. Madame
B. talked only to her, and always in German, that detestable tongue, of
which I knew not one single word.
Emmie ran up-stairs to fetch her hat, the first evening after dinner,
and as she took my arm for a stroll, she asked eagerly:
"Oh, uncle, did you see those two ladies who sat side by side--one in
black silk and the other in all the colors of the rainbow? Were not
they an odd contrast? And did you ever in your life see anything like
that younger lady's hair? Do you believe it is all growing? I did so
long to give the curl a little tweak to see if it would come off."
"My dear child," I said severely, for her remarks appeared to me rather
flippant, "that is not a nice way for you to talk; perhaps these same
ladies may be wondering now whether that great brown coil at the back
of your head is all your own."
"They may come and pull it if they like," returned the girl, laughing;
"every bit of it is home produce, grown on the premises, and warranted
genuine."
"At any rate this lady's locks are arranged in a most artistic manner."
"Artistic? I should think it was!" and Emmie was off again in one of
her hearty laughs. "Why, Uncle Adolphus, that is just the very thing
that tickles my fancy. It is _too_ artistic, _too_ unnatural; I am sure
Eve never wore her hair in that style, nor Venus, nor--nor anybody that
ever was taken for a model," urged the girl, getting a trifle confused
in her examples of style.
"Hair-pins and curling-tongs were not invented in those early days,"
said I, trying to be repressive. "What a remarkably fine sunset we are
having."