I have often seen Lucy when she brushes
it out at night. But because there is a dash of white in the front as if
a powder puff had rested there a moment by accident, it is screwed into a
little knob and covered with skilfully made yet perfectly apparent
frontlets to represent the different styles of hair-dressing affected by
women of abundant locks.
No. 1, worn at breakfast, is the most reasonable. It is quite plain,
slightly waved, and has a few stray hairs carelessly curved where it
joins the forehead. No. 2 is for rainy weather; the curls are fuzzy and
evidently baked in; it requires a durable veil to keep it in
countenance. Evan calls it the "rasher of bacon front." No. 3 is for
calling and all entertainments where the bonnet stays on; it has a baby
bang edge a trifle curled and a substantial cushion atop to hold the hat
pins; while No. 4, the one she wore on our arrival, is an elaborate
evening toupie with a pompadour rolling over on itself and drooping
slightly over one eye while it melts into a butterfly bow and handful of
puffs on the crown that in turn end in a single curl behind.
We had a dainty little dinner, grape fruit, clear soup, smelts, wild
duck, salad, fruit, and coffee, and it was daintily served, for Miss
Lavinia always keeps a good cook and remembers our dislike of the various
forms of hash known as entrees.
The coffee was placed on a low mahogany stand by the library fire, and
Miss Lavinia herself handed Evan a quaint little silver lamp by which to
light his cigar, for she has all the cosmopolitan instincts of a woman
who not only knows the world but had heard her father discuss tobacco,
and really enjoyed the soothing fragrance of a good cigar.
Pages:
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82