” She found herself trying to remember all the old tunes her mother had taught her, as they were bright as little stars. His tie had demanded a struggle; he ought to have taken a clean one after his first failure. If only he had known it, sympathy was almost entirely with him. Edgeworth Bess wore a scarlet tabby negligée,—a sort of undress, or sack, then much in vogue,—which suited her to admiration, and upon her head had what was called a fly-cap, with richly-laced lappets. “Lucy!” He whispered into her ear beneath a dusty curtain cloud. His scent was like sweet perfume in her state, like the sweet smell of infants.
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