Rand, in some odd fashion, to restore her original girlish simplicity.
The change was certainly not unbecoming to her. If her waist was not
as tightly pinched, a la mode, there still was an honest, youthful
plumpness about it; her step was freer for the absence of her high-heel
boots; and even the hand she extended to Rand, if not quite so small as
in her tight gloves, and a little brown from exposure, was magnetic in
its strong, kindly grasp. There was perhaps a slight suggestion of the
practical Mr. Sol in her wholesome presence; and Rand could not help
wondering if Mrs. Sol had ever been a Gold Hill "Pet" before her
marriage with Mr. Sol. The young girl noticed his curious glance.

"You never saw me in my rehearsal dress before," she said, with a laugh.
"But I'm not 'company' to-day, and didn't put on my best harness to
knock round in. I suppose I look dreadful."

"I don't think you look bad," said Rand simply.

"Thank you," said Euphemia, with a laugh and a courtesy. "But this isn't
getting the dinner."

As part of that operation evidently was the taking-off of her hat,
the putting-up of some thick blond locks that had escaped, and the
rolling-up of her sleeves over a pair of strong, rounded arms, Rand
lingered near her. All trace of the "Pet's" previous professional
coquetry was gone,--perhaps it was only replaced by a more natural one;
but as she looked up, and caught sight of Rand's interested face, she
laughed again, and colored a little. Slight as was the blush, it was
sufficient to kindle a sympathetic fire in Rand's own cheeks, which was
so utterly unexpected to him that he turned on his heel in confusion. "I
reckon she thinks I'm soft and silly, like Ruth," he soliloquized, and,