fine balls in Baden-Baden, one night, and at the entrance-door up stairs we were halted by an official,—something about Miss Jones's dress was not according to rule; I don't remember what it was, now; something was wanting,—her back hair, or a shawl, or a fan, or a shovel, or something. The official was ever so polite, and ever so sorry, but the rule was strict, and he could not let us in. It was very embarrassing,
AT THE BALL-ROOM DOOR.
for many eyes were on us. But now a richly dressed girl stepped out of the ball-room, inquired into the trouble, and said she could fix it in a moment. She took Miss Jones to the robing-room, and soon brought her back in regulation trim, and then we entered the ball-room with this benefactress unchallenged.
Being safe, now, I began to puzzle through my sincere but ungrammatical thanks, when there was a sudden mutual recognition,—the benefactress and I had met at Allerheiligen. Two weeks had not altered her good face, and plainly her heart was in the right place yet, but there was such a difference between these clothes and the clothes I had seen her in before, when she was walking thirty miles a day in the Black
