to what serves mortal beauty

Wandering through the showrooms at Newbridge Silverware.
The crowd swirls and by an interesting chance I find myself walking in step beside The Rose Of Tralee.
The Rose Of Tralee is the holder of a title awarded at an international beauty pageant held annually in Ireland.
This year's Rose is Claire Kambamettu.
I have a vague acquaintanceship with her from somewhere.
Today amid the throng we are suddenly alone.
Our eyes meet.
"Just remember Claire," I murmur softly, "you're even more beautiful without the make up."
"I know," replies the Rose Of Tralee modestly.