had never seen anything so hideous as the coiffure that the maid had arranged with such care. She no longer desired to appear like a young lady. Her hair had been drawn back so tight that her eyes were fairly starting from the socket. Had there been time she would have pulled the coiffure down, and indeed she was ready to cry with vexation, but she did not really dare to disarrange it now, for she dreaded the Emperor's ridicule. How he would laugh at the funny Chinese coiffure! In a few minutes she was to appear before him.
To her great surprise, when she and her sister entered the dining-room, the Emperor spared her, saying only:
"Mees Betsy, this is the only time I have ever seen you look really neat; but I don't like your frock. What is the matter?"
Poor Betsy! She was almost upset by the Emperor's tone. She looked at him closely, and decided that he meant just what he said. She had thought her little frock so pretty. Now, what could be the matter with it?
The Emperor understood her look of inquiry and answered in words.
