“Voici!” exclaimed the maid.  And Susan faced herself in the mirror, and could not resist a shamed, admiring smile.  But if the smooth rolls and the cunning sweeps and twists of bright hair made her prettier than usual, Susan was hardly recognizable when the maid touched lips and cheeks with color and eyebrows with her clever pencil.  She had thought her eyes bright before; now they had a starry glitter that even their owner thought effective; her cheeks glowed softly—­

“Here, stop flirting with yourself, and put on your gown, it’s after eight!” Mary said, and Clemence slipped the fragrant beauty of silk and lace over Susan’s head, and knelt down to hook it, and pushed it down over the hips, and tied the little cord that held the low bodice so charmingly in place.  Clemence said nothing when she had finished, nor did Mary, nor did Ella when they presently joined Ella to go downstairs, but Susan was satisfied.  It is an unfortunate girl indeed who does not think herself a beauty for one night at least in her life; Susan thought herself beautiful tonight.

They joined the men in the Lounge, and Susan had to go out to dinner, if not quite “on a man’s arm,” as in her old favorite books, at least with her own partner, feeling very awkward, and conscious of shoulders and hips as she did so.  But she presently felt the influence of the lights and music, and of the heating food and wine, and talked and laughed quite at her ease, feeling delightfully like a great lady and a great beauty.  Her dinner partner presently asked her for the “second” and the supper dance, and Susan, hoping that she concealed indecent rapture, gladly consented.  By just so much was she relieved of the evening’s awful responsibility.  She did not particularly admire this nice, fat young man, but to be saved from visible unpopularity, she would gladly have danced with the waiter.

It was nearer eleven than ten o’clock when they sauntered through various wide hallways to the palm-decorated flight of stairs that led down to the ballroom.  Susan gave one dismayed glance at the brilliant sweep of floor as they descended.

“They’re dancing!” she ejaculated,—­late, and a stranger, what chance had she!

“Gosh, you’re crazy about it, aren’t you?” grinned her partner, Mr. Teddy Carpenter.  “Don’t you care, they’ve just begun.  Want to finish this with me?”

But Susan was greeting the host, who stood at the foot of the stairs, a fat, good-natured little man, beaming at everyone out of small twinkling blue eyes, and shaking hands with the debutantes while he spoke to their mothers over their shoulders.

“Hello, Brownie!” Ella said, affectionately.  “Where’s everybody?”

Mr. Browning flung his fat little arms in the air.

“I don’t know,” he said, in humorous distress.  “The girls appear to be holding a meeting over there in the dressing-room, and the men are in the smoker!  I’m going to round ’em up!  How do you do, Miss Brown?  Gad, you look so like your aunt,—­and she was a beauty, Ella!—­that I could kiss you for it, as I did her once!”