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    Chapter 7 - Page 2

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    "Yes. I'm frightened to death!" Undine, laughing confidently, took up a
    hand-glass and scrutinized the small brown mole above the curve of her
    upper lip.

    "I guess she'll know how to talk to him," Mrs. Spragg averred with a
    kind of quavering triumph.

    "She'll know how to LOOK at him, anyhow," said Mrs. Heeny; and Undine
    smiled at her own image.

    "I hope he won't think I'm too awful!"

    Mrs. Heeny laughed. "Did you read the description of yourself in the
    Radiator this morning? I wish't I'd 'a had time to cut it out. I guess
    I'll have to start a separate bag for YOUR clippings soon."

    Undine stretched her arms luxuriously above her head and gazed through
    lowered lids at the foreshortened reflection of her face.

    "Mercy! Don't jerk about like that. Am I to put in this
    rose?--There--you ARE lovely!" Mrs. Heeny sighed, as the pink petals
    sank into the hair above the girl's forehead. Undine pushed her chair
    back, and sat supporting her chin on her clasped hands while she studied
    the result of Mrs. Heeny's manipulations.

    "Yes--that's the way Mrs. Peter Van Degen's flower was put in the other
    night; only hers was a camellia.--Do you think I'd look better with a
    camellia?"

    "I guess if Mrs. Van Degen looked like a rose she'd 'a worn a rose,"
    Mrs. Heeny rejoined poetically. "Sit still a minute longer," she added.
    "Your hair's so heavy I'd feel easier if I was to put in another pin."

    Undine remained motionless, and the manicure, suddenly laying both hands
    on the girl's shoulders, and bending over to peer at her reflection,
    said playfully: "Ever been engaged before, Undine?"

    A blush rose to the face in the mirror, spreading from chin to brow, and
    running rosily over the white shoulders from which their covering had
    slipped down.

    "My! If he could see you now!" Mrs. Heeny jested.

    Mrs. Spragg, rising noiselessly, glided across the room and became lost
    in a minute examination of the dress laid out on the bed.

    With a supple twist Undine slipped from Mrs. Heeny's hold.

    "Engaged? Mercy, yes! Didn't you know? To the Prince of Wales. I broke

    it off because I wouldn't live in the Tower."

    Mrs. Spragg, lifting the dress cautiously over her arm, advanced with a
    reassured smile.

    "I s'pose Undie'll go to Europe now," she said to Mrs. Heeny.

    "I guess Undie WILL!" the young lady herself declared. "We're going to
    sail right afterward.--Here, mother, do be careful of my hair!" She
    ducked gracefully to slip into the lacy fabric which her mother held
    above her head. As she rose Venus-like above its folds
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