of it. A fine head of hair is a very important matter. See, like that; something in that style."
She dishevelled a little the hair on my forehead, repeating:
"Something in that style. She is charming. See, Mary, you are charming. It is more suitable."
And, while she was patting my hair, I asked myself if Madame was not a little off.
When she had finished, being satisfied with my hair, she asked:
"Is that your prettiest gown?"
"Yes, Madame."
"It is not much, your prettiest gown. I will give you some of mine which you can make over. And your underwear?"
She raised my skirt, and turned it up slightly.
"Yes, I see," said she; "that will not do at all. And your linen, is it suitable?"
Vexed by this invasive inspection, I answered, in a dry voice:
"I do not know what Madame means by suitable."
"Show me your linen; go and get me your linen. And walk a little . . . again . . . come back . . . turn round . . .she walks well, she has style."
As soon as she saw my linen, she made a face:
"Oh, this cotton cloth, these stockings, these
