Ma wore all her jewelry, and her dress was an elaborate creation of brilliant jade green, from one shoulder of which depended a filmy streamer of green chiffon.

In her desire to gild the lily she had knotted a Roman scarf about her waist--a scarf of many colors, of red, of yellow, of purple, of blue, of orange--a very spectrum of vivid stripes, and it utterly ruined her.

It lent her an air of extreme superfluity; it was as if she had put on everything except the bedspread.
"You said to look my nicest," she bubbled, "so I done the best I could." "You _are_ lovely, both of you, but--this is my party, isn't it?
I can do anything I please ?" Gray looked from one to the other in eager inquiry.

"Then let me fix you my way.

Ma Briskow, your face is too sweet, too gentle, to be spoiled.