mirror, and madam began patting the motor cap hood affectionately
over the girl's black tresses.

"It will suit you to perfection!" exclaimed the French woman. "You
have ze hair beautiful. Zere!" She brushed the hood down over Cora's
ears. "Zat is ze way. Do not wear a motor hood as if it was a tiara!
Zat is of a hatefulness! Such bad taste! Voila--what is it zat you
Americans say?--ze fitness of zings. Yes, zat is what I mean."

The hood certainly looked well on Cora. Bess and Belle nodded their
approval. It was of the old-fashioned Shaker type, of delicate
pongee silk, and showed off to advantage Cora's black, wavy fair, as
it fell softly about her temples.

"Es eet not becoming?" demanded madam, and then she became profuse
in her native tongue. "Zat--what you call Shaker--eet is ze
prettiest--so chic--voila!" and once more she patted it on Cora's
head.

Cora was very well pleased with it. Then the mask was brought out.
This was a simple affair--Cora only wanted such things as were
practical. The mask, which had been specially designed to suit the
girl, was nothing more than a piece of veiling, with the goggles set
in. The veil was secured to the hood by a simple shirr string of
elastic.

Madam slipped it over Cora's face.

"Zere!" the milliner exclaimed.