"Yes. It's about the heroine--Phyllis. She's not pretty, but she's
got a strange, underlying charm."

Missy held her breath. She was ashamed to ask Tess to read the
description of the strangely charming heroine, but Tess knew what
friendship demanded, and read:

"'I am something over five-feet-two, with brown hair that hangs in
rich chestnut tresses far below my waist.'"

"Oh," put in Missy modestly, while her heart palpitated, "my hair is
just mouse-coloured."

"No," denied Tess authoritatively, "you've got nut-brown locks. And
your eyes, too, are something like Phyllis's eyes--great grey eyes
with subtle depths. Only yours haven't got saucy hints in them."

Missy wished her eyes included the saucy hints. However, she was
enthralled by Tess's comparison, though incomplete. Was it possible
Tess was right?

Missy wasn't vain, but she'd heard before that she had "beautiful
eyes." Perhaps Tess WAS right. Missy blushed and was silent. Just
then, even had she known the proper reply to make, she couldn't have
voiced it. As "the Duchess" might have phrased it, she was
"naturally covered with confusion."

But already Tess had flitted from the delightfully embarrassing
theme of her friend's looks.