Carol leaped from her chair, jerked off the big kitchen apron, and flew
up the stairs with never a word. When David followed more slowly, he
found her already painstakingly dusting her matchless skin with velvety
powder.

"I got a brand new box of powder, David, the very last thing I did,"
she began, as he entered the room. "When this is gone, I'll resort to
cheaper kinds. You see, father's had such a lot of experience with
girls and complexions that he just naturally expects them to be
expensive--and would very likely be confused and hurt if things were
changed. But I can imagine what a shock it would be to you right at
the start."

David assured her that any powder which added to the wonder of that
most wonderful complexion was well worth any price. But Carol shook
her head sagely.

"It's a dollar a box, my dear, and very tiny boxes at that. Now don't
talk any more for I must fix my hair and dress, and--I want to look
perfectly darling or they won't like me, and then they will not put
anything in the collections and the heathens and we will starve
together. Oh, will you buckle my slippers? Thanks. Here's half a
kiss for your kindness. Oh, David, dear, do run along and don't bother
me, for suppose some one should get here before I am all fixed, and--
Shall I wear this little gray thing? It makes me look very, very
sensible, you know, and--er--well, pretty, too. One can be pretty as
well as sensible, and I think it's a Christian duty to do it. David, I
shall never be ready. I can not be talked to, and make myself
beautiful all at once. Dear, please go and say your prayers, and ask