And, by now, she was too well acquainted with the rubs and prose of life, too much occupied with house-books, and rough servants, and the terror of an overdrawn account, to have any time or thought to spare to her own looks.

Fortunately she had an instinctive love for neatness and delicacy; so that her little figure, besides being agile and vigorous--capable of much dignity too on occasion--was of a singular trimness and grace in all its simple appointments.

Her trousseau was long since exhausted, and she rarely had a new dress.

But slovenly she could not be.
It was the matter of a new dress which was now indeed running in her mind.

She took up Lady Dunstable's letter, and read it pensively through again.
"You can accept for yourself, Arthur, of course," she said, looking up.
"But I can't possibly go." Meadows protested loudly.
"You have no excuse at all!" he declared hotly.