Later, after she became acquainted with these poetical imaginings, Mary congratulated herself and her maid very warmly on the fact that she had actually summoned sufficient energy to telegraph to town for this particular dress.
Of the other ladies present, Miss Layard was arrayed in a hot-looking red garment, which she imagined would suit her dark eyes and complexion.
Miss Rose, on the contrary, had come out in the virginal style of muslin and blue bows, whereof the effect, unhappily, was somewhat marred by a fiery complexion, acquired as the result of three days' violent play at a tennis tournament.

To this unfortunate circumstance Miss Layard, who had her own views of Miss Rose, was not slow in calling attention.
"What has happened to poor Jane ?" she said, addressing Mary.

"She looks as though she had been red-ochred down to her shoulders." "Who is poor Jane ?" asked that young lady languidly.

"Oh! you mean Miss Rose.

I know, she has been playing in that tennis tournament at--what's the name of the place?
Dad would drive me there this afternoon, and it made me quite hot to look at her, jumping and running and hitting for hour after hour.