little lady's facewas quite impressed; there even came a sort of dimness over her eyes.
"Then most of your days are dull, little Rachel?" she said.
"They are lonely," I replied.
"And yet you go to school; you have heaps of companions."
"But no friends," I replied.
"I wonder if Hermione Aldyce will suit you?" was her next remark.
"Hermione Aldyce! What a queer name! And who is she?"
"You will see her to-morrow. She is different from you, but there is noreason why you should not be friends. She is much the same age."
"Is she coming here to-morrow?"
"No; you are going to her. Her father and mother have invited us bothto dine with them."
"Oh!" I said.
I looked down at my length of leg and at my ugly feet, and felt a littleshiver going through my frame. Miss Donnithorne laid her hand on myarm.
"I wonder, Dumps," she said, "if you are a very proud girl?"
"Yes," I said, "I think I have plenty of pride."
"But there are all sorts," said Miss Donnithorne. "I hate a girl whohas none. I want a girl to be reasonable. I don't want her to eat thedust and to do absurd things, or to lower herself in her own eyes. Iwant a girl to be dignified, to hold her head high, to look straight outat the world with all the confidence and sweetness and fearlessness thata good girl ought to feel; but at the same time I want her to have thecourage to take a kindness from one who means well without being angryor absurd."
"What does all this mean?" I asked.
"It means, my dear Dumps, that I have in my possession at the presentmoment a very pretty costume which you might exchange for the red blouseand brown skirt. I know a person in Chelmsford who would be charmed topossess that red blouse and brown skirt, and if you wore the costume Ihave now in my mind, why, you would look quite nice in it--in fact, verynice indeed. Will you wear it?"
"What!" I answered; "give away the clothes father bought for me, andtake yours?"
"I could make it right with your father. Don't be a goose, Dumps. Yourfather only bought them because he didn't know what was suitable. Now,will you let me give you the costume that I have upstairs?"
"But when did you get it?"
"The fact is, I didn't get it. I have some clothes by me which belongedto a girl I was once very fond of. I will tell you about her anothertime."
"A girl you were fond of--and you have her clothes, and would like me towear them?"
"Some of them would not fit you, but this costume would. Will you putit on to-morrow? Will you at least wear it to-morrow for my sake?"
Of course there are all sorts of prides, and it did seem wrong to hurtMiss Donnithorne, and the temptation to look nice was great. So I saidsoftly, "I will wear it to-morrow--yes, I will wear it to-morrow--because you wish me to."
"Then you are a darling child," said Miss Donnithorne.
She gave a great sigh of relief, jumped up from her seat, and kissed me.
Soon after that, being very tired with the adventures of the day, I wentto bed. How delicious that bed was--so warm, so white, so inviting!How gaily the fire blazed in the grate, sending up little jets of flame,and filling the room with a sense of comfort! Miss Donnithorne came in,and saw that I had hot water and everything I required, and left me.
I undressed slowly, in the midst of my unwonted luxury. Perhaps if Ilived always with Miss Donnithorne I should be a different sort of girl;I might even grow up less of a Dumps. But of course not. Nothing couldlengthen my nose, or shorten my upper lip, or make me big. I must makeup my mind to be quite the plainest girl it had ever been my ownmisfortune to meet. For I had met myself at last in the looking-glassin Miss Donnithorne's bedroom; myself _and_ myself had come face toface.
In the midst of my pleasure a scalding tear rolled down one of my cheeksat the memory of that poor reflection. I had been proud to be calledRachel, but now I was almost glad that most of my world knew me asDumps.
Notwithstanding these small worries, however, I slept like a top, andwoke in the morning to see Nancy busy lighting the fire.
"Oh dear!" I said, "I don't want a fire to dress by."
"Yes, you do, miss, to-day, for it's bitter cold," said Nancy.
She soon had a nice fire blazing; she then brought me in a comfortablehot bath, and finally a little tray with a cup of tea and a thin sliceof bread-and-butter.
"Now, miss," she said, "you can get up and dress slowly. Missis saidshe won't have breakfast until a quarter to nine this morning, and it isonly a quarter to eight now. And, miss, them are the clothes. They'reall beautifully aired, and ready to put on, and missis says that you'llunderstand."
Really it was exciting. It seemed to me that I had been wafted intoFairyland. I sipped my tea and ate my bread-and-butter, and thoughtwhat a delightful place Fairyland was, and that, after all, none of thechildren's books had half described its glories. I then got up anddressed luxuriously, and at last turned to the chair on which lay thecostume I was to wear that day. There was a very pretty skirt of a richdark-blue; it was trimmed all round the edge with grey fur, and I didnot think that in all my life I had ever seen anything quite so lovely.It had even further advantages, for when I walked it made a swishingsound, and raising the skirt, I saw that it was lined with silk.
Now, Hannah had once described to me the wonderful glories of a dresswhich had belonged to her mother, and which was lined with silk. Shesaid she had bought it at a pawnbroker's, and she knew quite well thelast owner had been a duchess, for only duchesses could afford to wearsuch an expensive thing as silk hidden away under the skirt.
The bodice of this costume was as pretty as the skirt; it was alsosilk-lined, and full of little quaint puffings, and there was fur roundthe neck and on the cuffs. It fitted me to perfection, and I do thinkthat even Dumps looked better in that dark-blue dress, with its greyfur, than I had believed it possible for her to appear in anything.
But there were even further delights; for the dark-blue dress had abeautiful dark-blue coat to match, and there was a little grey fur capto be worn with it, and a grey fur muff. Oh dear, dear, I was made!And yet there were further treasures to be revealed. I had not seenthem before, but I had to put them on before I went down to breakfast--neat stockings of the very finest cashmere, and little shoes withrosettes and buckles. There were also walking shoes of the most refinedand delicate make. And, wonder of wonders! they fitted me. I feltindeed that I had come to Fairyland!
Miss Donnithorne was far too much of a lady to make any remark when Icame into the room in my dark-blue costume for breakfast. She hardlyglanced at me, but went deliberately to the sideboard and began to carvesome delicate slices of rosy ham.
I sat down facing the fire. I felt almost self-conscious in the gloriesof that wonderful costume, and Miss Donnithorne must have guessed that Iwould have such feelings. She therefore began to talk in her mostmatter-of-fact style.
"We shall have a very busy day, Rachel," she said. "There is not muchtime even for us to finish breakfast, for I have a class in theSunday-school, and you, if you like, can come with me. Of course, ifyou prefer it, you can come to church later with Nancy."
"Oh, I should much prefer to go with you," I replied.
"That's right--that's right," said Miss Donnithorne. "After church wego straight to the Aldyces'; they'll take us in their carriage. Weshall dine with them, and I think you might like Hermione to come backto have tea with us."
"You are good," I said. "It does sound wonderful."
Then I added, as I broke a piece of crisp toast in two, "I have neverridden in a carriage in all my life."
"Oh, you are not at all remarkable in that," replied Miss Donnithorne inher frank way. "London girls, unless their fathers happen to be veryrich, don't have carriages to drive in. But there is one thing I wouldbid you remember, Dumps."
"What is that?" I asked, raising my eyes to her face.
"You will meet, my dear, in your way
through life, all sorts andconditions of men and women, rich and poor, lowly and haughty, and youwill have to remember distinctions. One man may be better than hisneighbour; one man may be lower than his neighbour; but the thing thatmakes the difference between man and man is not what he possesses, butwhat he is in himself. Now, your father, my dear Rachel, happens to bea much greater and much more distinguished man than Squire Aldyce."
I wondered why she spoke so. Her laughing eyes were not laughing now;they were wonderfully serious; and her lips wore a remarkable expressionof great firmness and yet of great sweetness.
"I am proud to know Professor Grant," she said, "and you ought to be