distracting pink and white cheeks, at her blue eyes, which looked black
in the gas-light, and at her round white neck and arms--the dress left
arms and shoulders bare except for the impudent, short puffed sleeves
which dropped low on the shoulder like those of an early Victorian
beauty; anything but Victorian, however, was the brief, bouffant skirt,
which showed the slim ankles and the little, arched feet, in their
handsome slippers.

"You're perfectly--gorgeous, Alma. You've a legitimate right to be
charmed with yourself," said Nancy, sitting down on the bed beside her
mother to enjoy Alma's frank struttings and posings.

"I am nice," agreed Alma naively, trying to suppress a smile of
self-approval which, nevertheless, quirked the corners of her lips.
"_You_ did it, though, Nancy darling. I don't forget that, even if I
do seem to be a conceited little thing." She danced over and kissed
Nancy's cheek lightly, her frock enchanting her with its crisp
rustlings as she did so. "Nancy, you _will_ get something nice,
too,--the next time?"

"You should have made up a new dress for to-night, anyhow, Nancy," said
Mrs. Prescott, turning to inspect Nancy's appearance from the top of
her head to the toes of her freshly ribboned slippers. Nancy colored
slightly. It had not been a very easy task to overcome the temptation
to "blow herself," as Alma would have debonairly expressed a foolish
extravagance; and it was not particularly soothing to have that feat of
economy found fault with.

"If--if you think I look too dowdy, I--I'll stay at home, Mother," she
said, in a quiet tone that betrayed a touch of hurt pride. "You know
it was out of the question for me to get another dress, and if you feel
sensitive about my going to people like the Porterbridges in what I've
got, why, it's absurd to attempt it at all."

Mrs. Prescott was abashed; then in her quick, sweet, impulsive way--so
like that of a thoughtless, lovable little girl--she put her arms
around Nancy's straight young shoulders.

"Don't be cross with me, darling. I only said that because it hurts me
to think that you have to deny yourself anything in the world. You are
so sweet, and so strong, and--and I love you so, my dear, that I cannot
bear to think of your having to deny yourself the pretty things that
are given to the daughters of so many other women."

Instantly Nancy unbent, and, turning her head so that she could kiss
her mother's soft hair, she whisp