Christabel left the door and stepped into her slippers. Just below her chest was a spreading warmth, a tingling that flowed through her. Darling mother and father, she thought, and suddenly lifted her shoulder and quickly, lightly kissed it.
When she saw herself in the mirror, hair turned up from smooth white neck, eyelashes stuck into points by forgotten tears, exquisite in the claret-colored silk with its pouring train, she flung her arms tight around her mother's neck and cried: "Oh, mother dear, you're so good to me! I'm so happy I think I'll die!" But in the Edith Johnson Plummers' library she was no longer happy. No one was noticing the court lady, except her father and mother. Helen Barnes, in Mrs. Barnes' white satin dress and a gilt paper crown, was getting all the attention.
"Sweet Princess Brighteyes," Prince Trueheart said, belligerently, and paused.
"From afar" Mrs. Plummer prompted.
"From afar."
