She drew Claire round so that they stood in front of the Chippendale
mirror over the mantelpiece, from whence a row of pictured faces stared
back, as though stolidly sitting in judgment. The clear tints of
Claire's skin made Janet look sallow and faded, the dark curve of her
eyebrows under the sweep of gold brown hair, the red lips and deeply
cleft chin, made Janet's indeterminate features look insignificant, the
brown eyes seemed the only definite feature in her face, and they were
clouded with depression.

"Look at yourself," she said deeply, "and look at me!"

It was an awkward moment, and Claire shrugged uncomfortably.

"But my face is--it has to be--my fortune!"

"Oh, beauty! I wasn't thinking of beauty," Janet cried unexpectedly.
"You are very pretty, of course, but heaps of girls are pretty. It's
something more--I suppose it is what is called Charm. When people see
you once, they remember you; they want to see you again. You make a
place for yourself. I am one in a crowd. People like me well enough
when they are with me, but--they forget!"

"And I never meet anyone to remember. We're two love-lorn damsels, and
this is Merrie Christmas. Would you have thought it?" cried Claire, and
that wrought the desired effect, for Janet awoke with a shock to her
responsibilities as hostess, and led the way downstairs to join the rest
of the house-party.

The rest of the day was spent in conventional English fashion in a
praiseworthy effort to sustain spirits at concert pitch, and keep up a
continuous flow of gaiety, a mountainous task when guests are brought
together by claims of birth, without consideration as to suitability!
Mrs Willoughby's party consisted of four distinct elements; there were
Great-aunt Jane, and second cousin William, two octogenarians, who for
health's sake dined early all the year round, and sipped a cup of Benger
at eight, but who dauntlessly tackled sausages and plum pudding on
Christmas Day, and suffered for it for a week to come. There were Mr
and Mrs Willoughby, and two cousin husbands and their wives, and a
spinster aunt to represent the next generation, then came sweet and
twenty as represented by Janet and Claire, followed by Reginald of Eton,
on whom they looked down as a mere boy, the while he in his turn
disdained to notice the advances of two curly-headed cousins of nine and
ten! Claire enjoyed herself because it was in her nature to enjoy, and
it felt good to be once mo