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Meanwhile the two principals held the real centre of the stage. Betty Medill or was it Betty Parkhurst? storming furiously, was surrounded by the plainer girls the prettier ones were too busy talking about her to pay much attention to her and over on the other side of the hall stood the camel, still intact except for his headpiece, which dangled pathetically on his chest.

Next morning after the sun had gilded the domes and spires of Paris, the Harrises sat at breakfast in a private room, fragrant with fresh cut flowers. Gertrude wore at her throat her lover's gift, and she never looked prettier or happier. All the morning till 11 o'clock everybody was busy, when the ushers and friends began to arrive. Soon came the American ambassador, his wife and children.

Then, after a brief absence accounted for as a "rest cure," she would shine forth again upon her world, smiling, triumphant, prettier than ever, since she had begun to make up a little more.

"Mighty pretty, wasn't she?" she asked with a sudden girlish interest, bending forward to look, regardless of his strained attitude. "And she was prettier than that even, the way I remember her best, with her hair all hanging down, coming to tuck me into bed at night. Someway that's how I always seem to see her."

It was plain to her that, for some reason or another, the subject was intensely painful to Miss Merivale. Rhoda came shyly across the hall as they entered. She had on a new brown dress that Miss Merivale had given her. It was brown cashmere, made very simply, but it was a prettier dress than Pauline had ever seen her wearing, and she stared undisguisedly at her as they shook hands.

Every day the little girl seemed to grow prettier, and people used to say she would soon be as beautiful as her godmother, but no one knew, except the nurse, that at night, when the child slept, a strange and lovely lady bent over her. At length she told the queen what she had seen, but they determined to keep it as a secret between themselves.

The mistresses came in for their own share of adulation "Darling Miss Gifford, I do adore you!" "Miss Gifford, darling, you are prettier than ever!" "Oh, Miss Gifford, I was dying to see you!" The morning flew past, and lunch-time brought the gathering of mistresses in staff-room.

"She should be soft and tender full of wondrous thoughts, and ever standing like a gracious angel," sighed the rapturous Jacques, "to bless, console, and comfort me." "Still prettier," said Belle-bouche, blushing. "Now let me sum up," said Jacques.

"You are an expert hair-dresser; the flowers are much prettier as you have arranged them," said the lady to her young friend. "Is it not a great improvement? They looked heavy as Jane had arranged them before I have taken out more than half," replied Elinor. Mrs. George Wyllys looked up from the newspaper she was reading, and suggested a change.

"What is the price of this?" she asked, with trembling hope that she was going to be rewarded by success for all the trouble of her enterprise. "Two dollars a yard." Her hopes and countenance fell together. "That's too high," she said, with a sigh. "Then take this other blue; come it's a great deal prettier than that dark one, and not so dear; and I know your mother will like it better."

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