She was heavily veiled as she and Adelaide traveled down to Cherbourg to the steamer.

As soon as she got aboard she retired to her room and remained hidden there during the voyage, seen only by her maid, her face covered day and night with Auguste's marvelous skin-coaxing mask.

Adelaide did not see her again until the morning of the last day, when she appeared on deck dressed beautifully and youthfully for the shore, her skin as fair and smooth as a girl's, and looking like an elder sister of Adelaide's--at a distance.
She paused in New York; Adelaide hastened to Saint X, though she was looking forward uneasily to her arrival because she feared she would have to live at the old Hargrave house in University Avenue.

Miss Skeffington ruled there, and she knew Miss Skeffington--one of those old-fashioned old maids whose rigid ideas of morality extend to the ordering of personal habits in minutest detail.

Under her military sway everyone had to rise for breakfast at seven sharp, had to dine exactly at noon, sup when the clock struck the half hour after five.