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“How, aunt!” Alice made a quick interruption.

“You see, my child, how I am affected. Let me say it out in plain words–your appearance, when, you came in a few minutes ago actually shocked me.”

“Indeed, indeed, aunt Helen, you are too severe in your tastes! We are not Friends.”

“You are not going in the character of a May queen, Alice, that you should almost hide your beautiful hair in ribbons and flowers. A stiff bouquet in a silver holder is simply an impediment, and does not give a particle of true womanly grace. That necklace of pearls, if half hidden among soft laces, would be charming; but banding the uncovered neck and half-exposed chest, it looks bald, inharmonious, and out of place. White, with a superfluity of pink trimming, jewelry and flowers, I call on the outside of good taste; and if you go as you are, you will certainly attract all eyes, but I am sure you will not win admiration for these things from a single heart whose regard is worth having. Don’t be hurt with me, Alice. I am speaking with all love and sincerity, and from a wider experience and observation than it is possible for you to have reached. Don’t go as you are, if you can possibly make important changes. What time is left?”

Alice stood silent, with a clouded face. Her aunt looked at her watch.

“There is a full half hour. You may do much in that time. But you had best refer to your mother. Her taste and mine may not entirely accord.”

“O, as to that, mother is on your side. But she is always so plain in her notions,” said Alice, with a slight betrayal of impatience.

“A young lady will always be safest in society, Alice–always more certain to make a good impression, if she subordinate her love of dress and ornament as much as possible to her mother’s taste. In breaking away from this, my dear, you have gone over to an extreme that, if persisted in, will class you with vain lovers of admiration; with mere show girls, who, conscious of no superior moral and mental attractions, seek to win by outward charms. Be not of them, dear Alice, but of the higher class, whose minds are clothed in beautiful garments whose loveliest and most precious things are, like jewels, shut within a casket.”

Alice withdrew, silent, almost hurt, though not offended, and more than half resolved to give up the party. But certainly recollections checked this forming resolve before it reached a state of full decision.

“How will this do?” She pushed open the door of her aunt’s room half an hour afterwards with this sentence on her lips. Her cheeks were glowing, and her eyes full of sparkles. So complete was the change, that for a brief space the aunt gazed at her wonderingly. She wore a handsome fawn-colored silk, made high in the neck, around which was a narrow lace collar of exceeding fineness, pinned with a single diamond. A linked band of gold, partly hidden by the lace undersleeve, clasped one of her wrists. A small spray of pearls and silver formed the only ornament for her hair, and nestled, beautifully contrasted among its dark and glossy braids.

“Charming!” replied aunt Helen, in no feigned admiration. “In my eyes you are a hundred times more attractive than you were, a little while ago, and will prove more attractive to all whose favor is worth the winning.” And she arose and kissed her nice lovingly.

“I am not overdressed.” Alice smiled.

“Better underdressed than overdressed, always, my dear, If there is any fault, it is on the right side.”

“I am glad you are pleased, aunt Helen.”

“Are you not better pleased with yourself?” was asked.

“I can’t just say that, aunt. I’ve worn this dress in company several times, and it’s very plain.”

“It is very becoming, dear; and we always appear to best advantage in that which most accords with our style of person and complexion. To my eyes, in this more simple yet really elegant apparel, you look charming. Before, you impressed me with a sense of vulgarity; now, the impression, is one of refinement.”