Am I done?
Yes, that is charming, is n't it, Polly ?" and Fan rose to inspect the success of Monsieur's long labor.
"You know I don't appreciate a stylish coiffure as I ought, so I like your hair in the old way best.

But this is 'the thing,' I suppose, and not a word must be said." "Of course it is.

Why, child, I have frizzed and burnt my hair so that I look like an old maniac with it in its natural state, and have to repair damages as well as I can.

Now put the flowers just here," and Fanny laid a pink camellia in a nest of fuzz, and stuck a spray of daphne straight up at the back of her head.
"O, Fan, don't, it looks horridly so!" cried Polly, longing to add a little beauty to her friend's sallow face by a graceful adjustment of the flowers.
"Can't help it, that 's the way, and so it must be," answered Fan, planting another sprig half-way up the tower.
Polly groaned and offered no more suggestions as the work went on; but when Fan was finished from top to toe, she admired all she honestly could, and tried to keep her thoughts to herself.

But her frank face betrayed her, for Fanny turned on her suddenly, saying, "You may as well free your mind, Polly, for I see by your eyes that something don't suit." "I was only thinking of what grandma once said, that modesty had gone out of fashion," answered Polly, glancing at the waist of her friend's dress, which consisted of a belt, a bit of lace, and a pair of shoulder straps.
Fanny laughed good-naturedly, saying, as she clasped her necklace, "If I had such shoulders as yours, I should n't care what the fashion was.