full of books that looked fascinating; towels; tiny rugs; a light above
the hand-basin, and another to switch on above the bunk.... It was
wonderful! And there was a looking-glass before her in which she could
see her own reflection as clear as day--too clearly for her pleasure!

The face she irresistibly saw in this genuine mirror looked pale and
tired, although upon each white cheek there was a hard scarlet flush.
Her eyes were liquid, the pupils dilated; her whole appearance was one
of suppressed excitement. She had chagrin, not only because she felt
that her appearance was unattractive, but because it seemed to her that
her face kept no secrets. Had she seen it as that of another, Jenny
would unerringly have read its painful message.

"Eh, dear," she said aloud. "You give yourself away, old sport! Don't
you, now!" The mirrored head shook in disparaging admission of its own
shortcoming. Jenny bent nearer, meeting the eyes with a clear stare.
There were wretched lines about her mouth. For the first time in her
life she had a horrified fear of growing older. It was as though, when
she shut her eyes, she saw herself as an old woman. She felt a curious
stab at her heart.

Keith, returning, found Jenny still before the mirror, engaged in this
unsparing scrutiny; and, laughing gently, he caught her elbow with his
fingers. In the mirror their glances met. At his touch Jenny thrilled,
and unconsciously leaned towards him. From the mirrored glance she
turned questioningly, to meet upon his face a beaming expression of
tranquil enjoyment that stimulated her to candid remark. Somehow it
restored some of her lost ease to be able to speak so.

"I look funny, don't I?" She appealed to his judgment. Keith bent