us two little wanderers at
present."

Forty-five dollars for just one evening's fun.

Gold slippers would have been just the thing to wear with her yellow
dress; but--well----

CHAPTER IV

LADIES OF FASHION

The little bedroom which Alma and Nancy shared together wore a gaily
topsy-turvy appearance on that memorable night--quite as if it had
succumbed to the mood of flighty joy which was in the air. The
dresser, usually a very model of good order--except when Alma had been
rummaging about it unchecked--was strewn with hairpins, manicuring
implements, snips of ribbon and the stems of fresh flowers; all the
drawers were partly open, projecting at unequal distances, and giving
glimpses of the girls' simple underwear, which had been ruthlessly
overturned in frantic scramblings for such finery as they possessed. A
fresh, slightly scented haze of powder drifted up as Nancy briskly
dusted her arms and shoulders, and then earnestly performed the same
attentions for Alma. Mrs. Prescott sat on the edge of the bed, alive
with interest in the primping, and taking as keen a delight in her
daughters' ball-going as she had done in her own preparations for
conquest twenty years before. As critical as a Parisian modiste, she
cocked her pretty head on one side and surveyed the girls with an
expression of alertness mingled with satisfaction--such as you might
see on the face of a clever business man who watches the promising
development of a smart plan, with elation, though not without an eye
ready to detect the slightest hitch.

Unquestionably she was justified in pinning the highest hopes on Alma's
eventual success in life--if sheer exquisite prettiness can be a safe
guarantee for such. Alma, who had plainly fallen in love with herself,
minced this way and that before the glass, blissfully conscious of her
mother's and sister's unveiled delight in her beauty. Her yellow hair,
bright as gold itself spun into an aura of hazy filaments, was piled up
on top of her head, so that curls escaped against the white, baby-like
nape of her neck. Her dress was truly a masterpiece, and if there had
been a tinge of envy in Nancy's nature she might have regretted the
skill with which she herself had succeeded in setting off Alma's
prettiness, until her own good looks were pale, almost insignificant,
beside it. But Nancy was almost singularly devoid of envy and could
look with the bright, impersonal eyes of a beauty-lover at Alma's