Then I drew back to the door, and, advancing upon the mirror with mincing steps, I threw all the grace and graciousness of which I was conscious into my manner, and holding out my hand, said, in a "company voice," "_Charmed_ to see you, I'm sure!" "_Mais c'est bien drole!_" said a soft voice close behind me.
I had not heard the door open, and yet there stood Aunt Theresa on the threshold, and with her a little old lady.

The little old lady had a bright, delicately cut face, eyes of whose expressiveness there could be no question, and large grey curls.

She wore a large hat, with large bows tied under her chin, and a dark-green satin driving-cloak lined with white and grey fur.
She looked like a fairy godmother, like the ghost of an ancestor--like "somebody out of a picture." She was my great-grandmother..