Julia and say:

"Pick me a winner, darling. Go on--just pick any one!"

Julia soon reached the age when she could get her own breakfast, and
then, mingled with a growing appreciation of the girl's beauty, her
mother felt that gratitude always paid by an indolent person to one of
energy. She knew that her child was finer than she was, prettier, more
clever, more refined. She herself had never had any reserves; she had
always screamed or shouted or cried or run away when things crossed her,
but she saw Julia daily displaying self-control and composure such as
she had never known. There were subtleties in Julia: her sweet firm
young mouth closed over the swift-coming words she would not say, her
round, round blue eyes were wiser already than her mother's eyes.

The girl had grown very handsome. Her joyous, radiant colouring was
contradicted by her serious expression, her proud, unsmiling mouth. Her
eyes were dark, her colouring softly dark; she had the velvety, tawny
skin that usually accompanies dark hair. Yet her hair was a pure and
exquisite gold. She wore it fluffed over her ears, cut in a bang across
her forehead, and "clubbed" on her neck, in a rather absurd and
artificial fashion. But the effect of her grave little face and severe
expression, with this opulent gold, and her red lips and round blue
eyes, was very piquant. Even powder, earrings, and "clubbing" her hair
did not rob Julia of the appearance of a sweet, wilful, and petulant
child. Besides the powder and earrings, she indulged in cologne, in
open-work silk stockings and high heels, in chains and rings and
bracelets; she wore little corsets, at fourteen, and laced them tight.

Julia's mind, at this time, was a curious little whirlpool. She had the