Indian summer remained with Lady Sellingworth. Since she had considered
herself in the mirror she had realized that she had attained that
critical period in a beauty's life when she must begin incessantly to
manage to continue a beauty. Hitherto, beyond always dressing perfectly
and taking care to be properly "turned out," she had done less to
herself than many women habitually do. Now she swung to the opposite
extreme. There is no need to describe what she did. She did, or had done
to her, all that she considered necessary, and she considered that a
very great deal was necessary.

A certain Greek, who was a marvellous expert in his line, helped her at
a very high figure. And she helped herself by much rigid abstinence,
by denying natural appetites, by patient physical discipline. Her fight
against the years was tremendous, and was conducted with extraordinary
courage.

But nevertheless it seemed to her that a curse was put upon her; in that
she was surely one of those women who, once they take the first step
upon the downward slope, are compelled to go forward with a damnable
rapidity.

The more she "managed it" the more there seemed to be to manage.
From the time when she frankly gave herself into the clutches of
artificiality the natural physical merit of her seemed to her to
deteriorate at a speed which was headlong.

A hideous leap in the downward course took place presently. She began to
dye her hair. She was not such a fool as to change its natural colour.
She merely concealed the fact that white hairs were beginning to grow on
her head at an age when many simple people, who don't care particularly