and luncheon and afternoon, and again for dinner, changing to street
gowns when necessary and doing her hair in a different way for each
gown. Still, as Rose had said, she "suited herself," for she was always
immaculate, beautifully clad, and a joy to behold.

Madame Bernard greatly approved of the lovely white wool house gown
Isabel was wearing. She had no fault to find with the girl's taste, but
she wished to subordinate, as it were, the thing to the spirit; the
temple to the purpose for which it was made.

Isabel smiled at her sweetly as she folded up her work--a little
uncomprehending smile. "Are you going away now for your 'forty winks,'
Aunt Francesca?"

"Yes, my dear. Can you amuse yourself for an hour or so without playing
upon the piano?"

"Certainly. I didn't know that you and Cousin Rose were asleep
yesterday, or I wouldn't have played."

"Of course not." Madame leaned over her and stroked the dark hair, waved
and coiled in quite the latest fashion. "There are plenty of books and
magazines in the library."

Madame went upstairs, followed at a respectful distance by Mr. Boffin,
waving his plumed tail. He, too, took his afternoon nap, curled up
cosily upon the silken quilt at the foot of his mistress's couch. In the
room adjoining, Rose rested for an hour also, though she usually spent
the time with a book.