lessly endeavouring to outstrip a wild vain regret which
relentlessly pursued.

"Your uncle Julius always has the drawing-room lighted like this; he does
not believe in shadowy half light--calls it sentimental bosh," said aunt
Helen in explanation.

"Is uncle like that?" I remarked, but my question remained unanswered.
Leaving a hand-mirror with me, aunt Helen had slipped away.

One wall of the drawing-room was monopolized by a door, a big bookcase,
and a heavy bevelled-edged old-fashioned mirror--the two last-mentioned
articles reaching from floor to ceiling. Since my arrival the face of the
mirror had been covered, but this evening the blue silken curtains were
looped up, and it was before this that I stood.

I looked, and looked again in pleased surprise. I beheld a young girl
with eyes and skin of the clearest and brightest, and lips of brilliant
scarlet, and a chest and pair of arms which would pass muster with the
best. If Nature had been in bad humour when moulding my face, she had
used her tools craftily in forming my figure. Aunt Helen had proved a
clever maid and dressmaker. My pale blue cashmere dress fitted my fully
developed yet girlish figure to perfection. Some of my hair fell in
cunning little curls on my forehead; the remainder, tied simply with a
piece of ribbon, hung in thick waves nearly to my knees. My toilet had
altered me almost beyond recognition. It made me look my age--sixteen
years and ten months--whereas before, when dressed carelessly and with my
hair plastered in a tight coil, people not knowing me would not believe
that I was under twenty. Joy and merriment lit up my face, which glowed
with youth, health, and happiness, which rippled my lips in smiles, which
displayed a splendid set of teeth, and I really believe that on that
night I did not look out of the way ugly.

I was still admiring my reflection when aunt Helen returned to say that
Everard and uncle Julius were smoking on the veranda and asking for me.

"What do you think of yourself, Sybylla?"

"Oh, aunt Helen, tell me that there is something about me not completely
hideous!"

She took my face between her hands, saying:

"Silly child, there are some faces with faultless features, which would
receive nothing more than an indifferent glance while beside other faces
which might have few if any pretensions to beauty. Yours is one of those
last mentioned."

"But that does not say I am not ugly."

"No one would dream of call