Almost with some resentment I saw that she had never seemed more beautiful than on this morning.

The costume of those days was trying to any but a beautiful woman; yet Elisabeth had a way of avoiding extremes which did not appeal to her individual taste.

Her frock now was all in pink, as became the gentle spring, and the bunch of silvery ribbons which fluttered at her belt had quite the agreeing shade to finish in perfection the cool, sweet picture that she made.

Her sleeves were puffed widely, and for the lower arm were opened just sufficiently.

She carried a small white parasol, with pinked edges, and her silken mitts, light and dainty, matched the clear whiteness of her arms.