. Perce."

"If I can help you, Sally...." Mrs. Perce's voice took on a tone of
kindness almost solemn. "Well, that's all right. Just wait till these
things are washed."

Trembling, Sally introduced her other problem. At first Mrs. Perce gave
a great laugh, and looked very sharply at Sally. She looked at her
dress, at her face, at her hair.

"I don't want to look...."

"It wouldn't help you to look made-up. Not with Maggie. So there _is_ a
boy!"

"No!" Sally's tone was fierce.

"Oh, all right." Mrs. Perce was evidently not altogether convinced. She
dried her hands, her head consideringly upon one side.

"Who'd look at me?" There was a vain effort in this speech to
corroborate the disclaimer; but there was also an ingenuous and pathetic
appeal for some sort of reassurance, for this was Sally's hidden fear.

"Don't be a fool, Sally. If a girl makes up her mind to have a man...."

Sally's heart leapt. She looked with shining eyes of glory at Mrs.
Perce. It was the announcement of her dream, a confirmation of her hope.
She was for a moment ecstatic.

"Oh, Mrs. Perce!"

"You just look at him like that, my dear. Well, I'll tell you.... You
don't want to look _too_ fresh. Don't use peroxide. Henna's the stuff
for you."

"Henna! How much?" Sally was desperate. The word was open sesame to her.

"Wait a bit. I'll think. Henna. And a face cream. But mind, Sally, be
careful. Not too much of it. And whatever you do, remember your neck.
_You_ don't see it; but others do. All that's above your dress. And a
bit below. Some people are inquisitive. And just a bit of lip
salve--just a tinge. See, your lips aren't red enough. But you've got to
be on the watch not to overdo it. No good looking like a tart."

"No. It's just the hair and the freckles," breathed Sally.

"Oh, well.... We'll make a picture of you. And the eyebrows, Sally. But
only a bit, Sally. Only a bit. You've got to be moderate...."

Mrs. Perce went off into a delighted silence. She was in her element.
She had before her a great opportunity, and all her vanity was roused.
They understood one another. And for all Sally's disclaimer Mrs. Perce
was in no way deceived about her ultimate object. She was as aware of
Toby as if she knew the facts. But she was too shrewd to force a
confidence. To herself she was laughing with the full enjoyment which
some women, if not most of them, bring to the contemplation of an
intrigue and its ultimate consequences. Later, sh