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Her gown was of a simple magenta tulle, cut bias, traversed by three rows of light-blue flounces, with the selvage edges turned up with ashes-of-roses chenille; overdress of dark bay tarlatan with scarlet satin lambrequins; corn-colored polonaise, en panier, looped with mother-of-pearl buttons and silver cord, and hauled aft and made fast by buff velvet lashings; basque of lavender reps, picked out with valenciennes; low neck, short sleeves; maroon velvet necktie edged with delicate pink silk; inside handkerchief of some simple three-ply ingrain fabric of a soft saffron tint; coral bracelets and locket-chain; coiffure of forget-me-nots and lilies-of-the-valley massed around a noble calla.
Over in the west above the treetops, the sky grew pink, deepened to crimson, paled to ashes-of-roses. The sparkling lights on the water were snuffed out one by one. The air was full of sounds, shrill-voiced insects cheeping, the pipe of frogs, the twittering of birds seeking their nests. The downward droop of the corners of Dorothy's mouth became more pronounced.
Upon this assurance the people came forward with subscriptions to build a second machine. The Angel's Tear An Unworthy Man who had laughed at the woes of a Woman whom he loved, was bewailing his indiscretion in sack-cloth-of-gold and ashes-of-roses, when the Angel of Compassion looked down upon him, saying: "Poor mortal! how unblest not to know the wickedness of laughing at another's misfortune!"
It softened through the fugue of woven crimson gold and flame, to the melancholy minor of ashes-of-roses and paling green, and so through all the dying glories that faded slowly to a tranquil grey and left the world to the silver melody of one sole star that dawned above the ineffable heights of the snows.
If any good chaplain failed to "improve the occasion" let us hope that he lived to lament in sack-cloth-of-gold and ashes-of-roses his intellectual unthrift. The putting of that army into battle shape its change from columns into lines could not have occupied more than an hour or two, yet it seemed an eternity.
I'd like to decide that matter before you show your heels. You, eh, default, I suppose?" "No, uncle, she does that. I do only the hopeless loving." "The wha-at? Great Lord! You don't tell me you ?" "Yes, I caved in last night; told her I loved her. Oh, I didn't do it just in this ashes-of-roses tone of voice, but" the nephew smiled the General scowled "you should have seen me, uncle.
"Don't you think it would be suitable if I had it made with some black lace?" asked Sylvia, wistfully. "Henry thinks it is too young for me, but " "Not black," Rose said, decisively. The two were up in the attic beside the old chest of finery. Rose took out an old barege of an ashes-of-roses color. She laid a fold of the barege over the pink silk, then she looked radiantly at Sylvia.
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