But no
Parisian artist could know better than my mother how a thing
should be.
"That will do!" said Mrs. Sandford approvingly. "Dear me, what
lace! What lace you Southern ladies do wear, to be sure! A
blue sash, now, Daisy?"
"No ma'am, I think not."
"Rose? It must be blue or rose."
But I thought differently, and kept it white.
"_No_ colour?" said Mrs. Sandford. "None at all? Then just let
me put this little bit of green in your hair."
As I stood before the glass and she tried various positions
for some geranium leaves, I felt that would not do either. Any
dressing of my head would commonise the whole thing. I watched
her fingers and the geranium leaves going from one side of my
head to the other, watched how every touch changed the tone of
my costume, and felt that I could not suffer it; and then it
suddenly occurred to me that I, who a little while before had
not cared about my dress for the evening, now did care, and
that determinedly. I knew I would wear no geranium leaves, not
even to please Mrs.
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