them to be packed in brown-paper, paid for them, and gave methe parcel to carry.
I felt a sense of absolute misery as I walked home with my hideous brownskirt and that dreadful red blouse. It was of a dark brick-red colour,and would not suit me; I knew that quite well. Still, father was highlypleased.
"There, now," he said, "you won't go to Miss Grace Donnithorne's lookingshabby. But, good gracious me! I'm five minutes late for class.Good-night, Dumps."
"Won't you be in to dinner, father?" I asked.
"I don't know--don't expect to. Now, not another word, or I shall haveone of my furious headaches. Good-night, my dear."
He banged the hall door, and I sat down with the brown-paper parcel infront of me.
PART ONE, CHAPTER FIVE.
THE PROFESSOR CHOOSES A DRESS.
Father was really quite interested about my wardrobe. He asked me twoor three questions during the few days which ensued between Wednesdayand Saturday, and in particular said what good weight the brown skirtwas, and what an age it would last me.
"But it's just a wee bit too long for me," I could not help remarking.
He raised his brows very high when I said this, and pushed his glassesup on his forehead. Then he said after a pause, "There's no pleasingsome people. Didn't you tell me that you had outgrown your clothes, andwasn't I once and for all going to put a stop to that sort of thing? Doyou suppose that a man who is saving his money to send his sons toOxford or Cambridge can afford to buy dresses often? That skirt leavesroom for growth, and as it thins off with age it will be less heavy.It's exactly the sort you ought to have, Dumps, and I won't hear a wordagainst it."
"Of course not, father. It was very kind of you to buy it for me."
"Perhaps you'd best travel in it," he said.
But to this I objected, on the score that it might get injured in thetrain.
"Very true," he remarked. "But, all the same, I should like MissDonnithorne to see you looking nice. Well, you can put it on when youget there. Be sure you do that. Go straight up to your room and put onyour brown skirt and your red blouse, and go down to her looking as mydaughter ought to look."
"Yes, father," I said meekly.
The joyful day arrived. Father could not take me to the stationhimself; but Hannah and I went there in a cab. Hannah was terriblycross. She said she knew I'd come home "that spoilt as would be pastbearing."
"You're going to that fat, vulgar body," she said. "Oh, don't you talkto me about it's being genteel to put on flesh, for I know better. But,anyhow, you'll be a good riddance while you are away, Dumps. I'll havetime to give the parlour a rare good turning out."
"Oh Hannah," I said, nestling up a little closer to her in the cab,"aren't you ever a little bit sorry that I'm going away?"
"Well, to be sure, child," she said, her eyes twinkling, "I've no faultto find with you. You can't help your looks, and you can't help youraggrawating manners, and you can't help your perverse ways of going on.But there, there! you're as you're made, and I've no fault to find withyou."
This was a great deal from Hannah, and I was obliged to be satisfiedwith it.
"I don't think I shall ever grow up vain," I thought, "and I suppose Iought to be satisfied."
By-and-by I was cosily travelling first-class, for father was peremptoryon this point, down to Chelmsford. I had left smoky London behind me,and was in the country. It was very cold in the country; snow was overeverything, and the whole place looked so white and so sweet, and I justpined for a breath of the fresh country air. So I flung open the windowof the carriage nearest to me and poked out my head.
A poke of another sort was presently administered somewhere in my back,and turning, I saw a most irate old gentleman who had been sitting atthe other end of the carriage.
"I'll thank you, young person," he said, "to shut that window without amoment's delay. You must be mad to put your head out like that in suchbitter weather. I'm certain to be attacked by bronchitis with yourwilful and violent way of letting such extreme cold into the carriage."
I shut the window in a great hurry and sat down, very red in the face.The old gentleman did not take any further notice of me; he buriedhimself behind his paper. After a minute or two I heard him sneeze, andwhen he sneezed he gave me a very angry glance. Then he coughed, andthen he sneezed again; finally he buried himself once more in his paper.
By-and-by we got to Chelmsford. It was nice to see Miss GraceDonnithorne standing on the platform. She was so round and so jolly andgood-natured-looking, and her eyes, which were like little black beadsin the middle of her face, quite shone with happiness.
"There you are, you poor Dumps!" she said. "Hop out, dear--hop out."
I sprang from the carriage to the platform.
"Where is your luggage, my dear?"
"I have it," I said; "it is in a brown-paper parcel on theluggage-rack."
I thought I heard Miss Donnithorne murmur some thing; but all she saidwas, "Give it to me, dear. Be quick, or the train will move on."
So I lugged it out as best I could, and there I stood in my shabby greytweed dress, with my little worn-out jacket and my small hat, clutchingat the brown-paper parcel. It was fairly heavy, for I had had to putother things into it besides the now dress and the new jacket; but itwas tied very securely with cord, and addressed in my father'shandwriting with my name to the care of Miss Grace Donnithorne, HedgerowHouse.
"Now then, child," said Miss Grace, "we'll get into my pony-trap anddrive home. Why, you poor thing, you're as cold as charity; and nowonder--no wonder."
She insisted on carrying the brown-paper parcel herself. Waitingoutside the station was a very neat little cart drawn by a shaggy pony.There was a boy standing by the pony's head. He was dressed in quite asmart sort of dress, which I afterwards discovered was called livery.He sprang forward when he saw Miss Donnithorne and took the parcel,which she told him to put carefully in the back of the carriage, and onno account to trample on it with his feet.
Then we both got in, and a great fur rug was wrapped round us, and acloak of Miss Donnithorne's fastened round my neck.
"Now you can't possibly catch cold," she said.--"Jump up behind, Jim."
Jim obeyed. Miss Donnithorne took the reins, and off we flew.
Oh, how wonderful, how delightful was the sensation!
We got to the cottage in about a quarter of an hour. Miss Grace told methat although it was called Hedgerow House, it was really only acottage; but I could not tell what the difference was. It was a long,low, rambling sort of house, all built in one floor. The walls were socompletely covered with creepers that, even though it was winter, youcould not see much of the original stone-work; and where there were nocreepers in full leaf there was trellis-work, which was covered with thebare branches of what in summer, Miss Donnithorne told me, would beroses.
"Do roses really grow like that?" I asked.
"Oh yes," she replied; "and jasmine and wistaria and clematis, and allsorts of other things."
The dog that Miss Donnithorne had warned me about came out to meet us.He was a fox-terrier, with a very sharp nose black as coal, and all therest of his body was snow-white, except his sparkling, melting,wonderful brown eyes. I must say his eyes flashed very angrily when hefirst saw me, but Miss Donnithorne said, "Down, Snap--down!" and thenshe laid her hand on Snap's collar and said, "You're to be good to thisyoung lady, Snap."
Snap, after glancing at me in a crooked sort of way, as though he werenot at all sure that he would not prove the significance of his name,condescended to wag his tail very slightly.
Miss Donnithorne took me into a very pretty little sitting-room at oneside of the pretty little square hall. This room was filled with allsorts of unaccountable things. There were glass cases filled withstuffed birds of gay plumage. Miss Donnithorne glanced at them.
"I'll tell you their names presently," she said. "My brother who diedbrought them to me from South America."
There were three of th
ese cases. There were also stuffed animals, ahare, a fox, and a dog, perched above doors and at the top of thebookcase. Where there were not these cases of stuffed creatures therewere books, so that you really could not see one scrap of the originalpaper of the room.
"Is this the drawing-room?" I asked.
"Oh, I don't call it by that name," said Miss Donnithorne. "I sit herebecause I have all my books and papers handy about the room. But cometo the fire and warm yourself."
Certainly the fire in that dear little grate looked very different fromthe dismal fire which Miss Donnithorne had seen in our