THERE WAS a puzzling expression on Helen's face as she deftly, though rather unskillfully, applied her make-up. Truth to tell, she was not very accustomed to make-up, save for a little powder and lipstick. But tonight was to be an "event"—she hoped—and therefore she was determined to make the most of herself. She was dressed in her very best frock, one that clung somewhat closely to her youthful figure and showed it up to the best of its advantage. Despite her youth—she was only sixteen—she was no longer the lanky, colt-like creature she had been during her schooldays. She had developed rather quickly, and looked much more mature than she really was. She was rather pretty, too, although in a somewhat "cheap" kind of way. Her hair was fair and waved in an elongated "bob;" her eyes were blueish-gray and large; her nose straight; and her lips full and generous. There seemed to be a hint of slumbering', as yet unawakened, passion in her appearance.
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