Then she spoke to her mistress, and Ethel awakened, as she always did, with a smile; nature's surest sign of a radically sweet temper.

And everything went in accord with the smile; her hair fell naturally into its most becoming waves, her dress into its most graceful folds; the sapphire necklace matched the blue of her happy eyes, the roses of youth were on her cheeks, and white violets on her breast.

She felt her own beauty and was glad of it, and with a laughing word of pleasure went down to the parlor.
Madam Rawdon was standing before the fire, but when she heard the door open she turned her face toward it.
"Come here, Ethel Rawdon," she said, "and let me have a look at you." And Ethel went to her side, laid her hand lightly on the old lady's shoulder and kissed her cheek.

"You do look middling well," she continued, "and your dress is about as it should be.

I like a girl to dress like a girl--still, the sapphires.