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On entering the hotel her maid met her
with a message from Lady Esmondet bidding her dress at once for Mr.
Bertram's dinner. Vaura, telling Saunders to be expeditious--she would
wear her biscuit colored satin, old lace, coral ornaments--is soon
robed; her fluffy hair, almost bronze in its brightness and so
luxuriant giving her maid no trouble, is as an old time saint hath it,
'a glory to her,' while the warm tints of her rich beauty is set off
by the colour of her gown.
"You are a treasure, Saunders," said her mistress; "I find you have
dressed me so quickly I shall have time for a little reading; go tell
Lady Esmondet I now await her pleasure to leave."
"You are so easy to dress, miss; you see, Mademoiselle, your eyes and
complexion don't want doing up; now when I was maid to the Misses
Verlingham--"
"Spare me the mysteries of the _toilette_, Saunders, and do my
bidding; mysteries indeed," thought she, half-laughing, "what would
the poor men say could they see the war-paint putting on for their
slaughter," and picking up one of W.


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