And Beryl stepped out of her skirt and shed her jersey, and stood up in her short white petticoat, and her camisole with ribbon bows on the shoulders.
"Mercy on us," said Mrs.Harry Kember, "what a little beauty you are!" "Don't!" said Beryl softly; but, drawing off one stocking and then the other, she felt a little beauty.
"My dear--why not ?" said Mrs.Harry Kember, stamping on her own petticoat.

Really--her underclothes! A pair of blue cotton knickers and a linen bodice that reminded one somehow of a pillow-case...

"And you don't wear stays, do you ?" She touched Beryl's waist, and Beryl sprang away with a small affected cry.

Then "Never!" she said firmly.
"Lucky little creature," sighed Mrs.Kember, unfastening her own.
Beryl turned her back and began the complicated movements of some one who is trying to take off her clothes and to pull on her bathing-dress all at one and the same time.
"Oh, my dear--don't mind me," said Mrs.Harry Kember.

"Why be shy?
I shan't eat you.