Mary enjoyed luxury like a cat.

As she splashed away in the big porcelain tub, she wished that Hazel Lee could see the tiled walls, the fine ample towels with their embroidered monograms, the dainty soaps, and the cut-glass bottles of toilet-water, with their faint odor as of distant violets.

Then she wondered if Mom Beck would think that she had refused her offers of assistance because she was not used to the services of a lady's maid.

She was half-afraid of this old family servant in her imposing head-handkerchief and white apron.
Recalling Joyce's experiences in France and what had been the duties of her maid, Marie, she decided to call her in presently to brush her hair and tie her slippers.

Afterward she was glad that she had done so, for Mom Beck was a practised hair-dresser, and made the most of Mary's thin locks.