A clear white muslin dress, a blue sash (the Virgin's colours), a pair of white, or straw-colour kid gloves--such was the gala uniform, to the assumption whereof that houseful of teachers and pupils devoted three mortal hours.

But though simple, it must be allowed the array was perfect--perfect in fashion, fit, and freshness; every head being also dressed with exquisite nicety, and a certain compact taste--suiting the full, firm comeliness of Labassecourien contours, though too stiff for any more flowing and flexible style of beauty--the general effect was, on the whole, commendable.
In beholding this diaphanous and snowy mass, I well remember feeling myself to be a mere shadowy spot on a field of light; the courage was not in me to put on a transparent white dress: something thin I must wear--the weather and rooms being too hot to give substantial fabrics sufferance, so I had sought through a dozen shops till I lit upon a crape-like material of purple-gray--the colour, in short, of dun mist, lying on a moor in bloom.

My _tailleuse_ had kindly made it as well as she could: because, as she judiciously observed, it was "si triste--si pen voyant," care in the fashion was the more imperative: it was well she took this view of the matter, for I, had no flower, no jewel to relieve it: and, what was more, I had no natural rose of complexion.
We become oblivious of these deficiencies in the uniform routine of daily drudgery, but they _will_ force upon us their unwelcome blank on those bright occasions when beauty should shine.
However, in this same gown of shadow, I felt at home and at ease; an advantage I should not have enjoyed in anything more brilliant or striking.

Madame Beck, too, kept me in countenance; her dress was almost as quiet as mine, except that she wore a bracelet, and a large brooch bright with gold and fine stones.

We chanced to meet on the stairs, and she gave me a nod and smile of approbation.