"I think he is doing something else for you," said Ethel; "I heard
him carpentering at six o'clock this morning, but I suppose it is to
be a secret."

"And don't you admire her night-cap?" said Flora.

"Is it anything different?" said Ethel, peering closer. "Oh, I see--
so she has a fine day night-cap. Is that your taste, Flora?"

"Partly," said Margaret, "and partly my own. I put in all these
little white puffs, and I hope you think they do me credit. Wasn't
it grand of me?"

"She only despises you for them," said Flora.

"I'm very glad you could," said Ethel, gravely; "but do you know? it
is rather like that horrid old lady in some book, who had a paralytic
stroke, and the first thing she did that showed she had come to her
senses was to write, 'Rose-coloured curtains for the doctors.'"

"Well, it was for the doctor," said Margaret, "and it had its effect.
He told me I looked much better when he found me trying it on."

"And did you really have the looking-glass and try it on?" cried
Ethel.

"Yes, really," said Flora. "Don't you think one may as well be fit
to be seen if one is ill? It is no use to depress one's friends by
being more forlorn and disconsolate than one can help."