Nora, still sitting on the bed, admired her hugely.

"She'll look like that when she's married," she thought, by which she meant that the black had added a certain proud--even a sombre--stateliness to Connie's good looks.
"Now my pearls, Annette." "Won't you have some flowers, my lady ?" "No.

Not one.

Only my pearls." Annette brought them, from the locked dressing-case under her own bed where she jealously kept them.

They were famous pearls and many of them.
One string was presently wound in and out through the coils of hair that crowned the girl's delicate head; the other string coiled twice round her neck and hung loose over the black dress.