It was when he saw her coming down the staircase in the still empty
clubhouse that he realized the reason for her defiant attitude when
she acknowledged to fancy dress. For she wore a peacock costume of
the most daring sort. Over an orange foundation, eccentric in
itself and very short, was a vivid tunic covered with peacock
feathers on gold tissue, with a sweeping tail behind, and on her
head was the towering chest of a peacock on a gold bandeau. She
waved a great peacock fan, also, and half-way down the stairs she
paused and looked down at him, with half-frightened eyes.
"Do you like it?"
"It is very wonderful," he said, gravely.
He could not hurt her. Her pleasure in it was too naive. It dawned
on him then that Natalie was really a child, a spoiled and wilful
child. And always afterward he tried to remember that, and to judge
her accordingly.
She came down, the upturned wired points of the tunic trembling as
she stepped. When she came closer he saw that she was made up for
the costume ball also, her face frankly rouged, fine lines under
her eyes, her lashes blackened.
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