It is an event in a mother's life when her first little girl grows up and becomes a young lady.

To-night Quenrede was to be launched on the stream of society.

Looked at critically, her appearance was very satisfactory.

Though the new dress might not be up to the level of a fashion-plate, it certainly became her, and set off the pretty fair face, white neck, and coils of gleaming flaxen hair.
"Your gloves and shoes and stockings are all right, and you've got a nice handkerchief, and your fan," reviewed Mother, wrapping an evening cloak round her handiwork.

"Good-by, my bird! Enjoy yourself, and don't be silly and shy." "I shall keep awake till you come back!" Ingred assured her.
It was something at any rate to be going with Egbert and Athelstane.
Among the stream of strangers there would be at least two home objects upon which she might occasionally cast anchor.