For the Westmacotes were to arrive that night, in time for
dinner, and I, standing before the mirror in my room, was what
Alicia called "really dressed" for the first time in my life.
"From your point of view, this is a business necessity. From mine,
it is applied morality. Why, Sophy, you're _stunning_! Here, sit
down: I have to loosen up that hair a bit."
"Now!" said she, when she had critically surveyed her finished work
and found it good, "Now, Sophy Smith, you are no longer efficient
and utilitarian; you are effective and decorative, thank heaven!"
Really, clothes do make a tremendous difference, after all. Why,
I--Well, I no longer looked root-bound.
"I said you'd put out new leaves and begin to bloom!" Alicia
exulted. We bowed to the Sophy in the glass, a small and slender
person with quantities of fair hair, a round white chin, and steady
blue eyes. For the rest, she had a short nose and the rather wide
mouth of a boy. She wasn't what you'd call a beautiful person, but
she wasn't displeasing to the eye.
"_Vale_, plain Sophy Smith!" cried Alicia, "_Ave_, dear Lady of
Hynds House! We who about to live salute you!"
The Westmacotes were delighted with Alicia.
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