hat shall you put on?" asked Patty, interestedly, as Azalea made a mad
dive into her trunk.

"Dunno. What say? This?" She held up a mussy looking white muslin,
trimmed with coarse embroidery and some imitation lace.

"That will do nicely," Patty said, relieved that it was at least white,
and not some of the flamboyant effects she saw still in the trunk. "Janet
will press it off for you,--it's rumpled from packing. And then you
needn't unpack, dear, Janet will do that for you."

"Oh, I thought you told me not to call on the servant for anything!"

"No," Patty said, discouraged, "I didn't quite say that,--here's Janet
now. Let her do your hair for you!"

"Do my hair! Mercy gracious! I should say not! I've never had that done
for me."

"But I'm sure you'll be pleased with the way she'd do it. Janet is an
artist at hair-dressing."

"Nopy! nix on the barber act for little Zaly! I'll comb my own wig, thank
you!"

With a comb, she stood before the cheval glass, and twisted up the dark
mop into a tidy but most unbecoming coil.

"Don't you _care_ how it looks?" cried Patty, in dismay. "Really, _don't_
you? And you've such pretty hair!"

"Then if it's pretty hair, it doesn't need any fancy doing," and Azalea
gave a whimsical smile. "There, that's done. Now for my frock."

Janet had whisked the white muslin away, and already had it back, pressed
and freshened.

"Lovely!" Azalea exclaimed; "how ever did you do it so quick? Happen to
have an iron on the stove?"

"Electric iron," said Patty, briefly. "They're always handy, you know."

"Never saw one. No, Miss Janet,--not that way, it hooks in the back."

At last, Azalea was attired, and looked fairly presentable in her white
frock; though having no white shoes and stockings she wore black ones.

"I'd like white ones," she said, apologetically, "but I could only have
two pairs so I got black and the ones I wore here."

"Quite right," said Patty, appreciatively; "I'll be glad to get you some
white ones. They'd be pretty with this frock."

"Oh, thank you. I'd love to have 'em. Where we going now?"

"Suppose you come to my room, while I dress," Patty suggested, thinking
an object lesson in the arts of the toilette might not be amiss.

"O.K.," and the visitor strode along by the side of her hostess.

They _were_ a contrast! Patty, dainty, graceful and sweet, was the very
antithesis of tall, gawky Azalea, with her countrified dress and badly
made black shoes. Her c