In sooth, it seemed that she took a pleasure in showing her female adorer how wondrously full of all fascinations she could be.

At such times Anne's plain face would almost bloom with excitement, and her shot pheasant's eyes would glow as if beholding a goddess.
She neither saw nor heard more of the miniature on the riband.

It used to make her tremble at times to fancy that by some strange chance it might still be under the bed, and that the handsome face smiled and the blue eyes gazed in the very apartment where she herself sat and her sister was robed and disrobed in all her beauty.
She used all her modest skill in fitting to her own shape and refurnishing the cast-off bits of finery bestowed upon her.

It was all set to rights long before Clorinda recalled to mind that she had promised that Anne should sometime see her chance visitors take their dish of tea with her.
But one day, for some cause, she did remember, and sent for her.
Anne ran to her bed-chamber and donned her remodelled gown with shaking hands.

She laughed a little hysterically as she did it, seeing her plain snub-nosed face in the glass.