morning, noon
Mother is not demonstrative as a rule , so you simply love it when she is . She looks quite young , and she was the beauty of the county when she was a girl , and I never did see in all my life anybody so immaculately perfect in appearance ! Her dresses fit as if she had been melted into them ; her skirts stand out , and go crinkling in and out into folds just exactly like the fashion-plates ; her hair looks as if it had been done a minute before -- I do n't believe she would have a single loose end if she were out in a tornado . It 's the same , morning , noon and night ; if she were wrecked on a desert island she would be a vision of elegance . It 's the way she was born . I ca n't think how I came to be her daughter , and I know I 'm a trial to her with my untidiness . We hugged each other , and she put her hands on each side of my face , and we kissed and kissed again .