The oratory closed, the dormitory became the scene of ablutions, arrayings and bedizenings curiously elaborate. To me it was, and ever must be an enigma, how they contrived to spend so much time in doing so little. The operation seemed close, intricate, prolonged: the result simple. A clear white muslin dress, a blue sash (the Virgin’s colours), a pair of white, or straw-colour kid gloves⁠—such was the gala uniform, to the assumption whereof that houseful of teachers and pupils devoted three mortal hours. But though simple, it must be allowed the array was perfect⁠—perfect in fashion, fit, and freshness; every head being also dressed with exquisite nicety, and a certain compact taste⁠—suiting the full, firm comeliness of Labassecourien contours, though too stiff for any more flowing and flexible style of beauty⁠—the general effect was, on the whole, commendable.