people would be perfectly miserable with confusion, there would be no wonder at your saying you never saw anybody like her. I never did, I am sure. And then, you know, somehow or other, she always looks so well in everything she wears,—even in the shabbiest things, and her things are nearly always shabby enough, for they are dreadfully poor. She is always finding new ways of wearing things or new ways of doing her hair or—or something. It is the way her dresses fit, I think. Oh, dear, how I do wish the dressmaker could make mine fit as hers do! Just look at that white merino, now, for instance. It is the plainest dress in the room, and there is not a bit of fuss or trimming about it, and yet see how soft the folds look and how it hangs,—the train, you know. It reminds me of a picture,—one of those pictures in fashionable monthlies,—illustrations of love stories, you know.”      

       “It is a very pretty dress,” said young Mr. Jessup, eying it with great interest. “What did you say the stuff was called?”      

       “Merino,” answered Phemie.     

       “Merino,” repeated Mr. Jessup. “I will try and remember. I should like my sister Lucinda Maria to have a dress like it.”      

       And he regarded it with growing admiration just tempered by the effect of a mental picture of Lucinda Maria, who was bony and of remarkable proportions, attired in its soft and flowing counterpart, with white swan's-down adorning her bare shoulders.     

       “May I ask,” said Miss MacDowlas, at the bottom of the table, to Lady Augusta,—"may I ask who that young lady with the fresh completion is,—the young lady in white at the other end?”      

       “That is my governess,” replied her ladyship, freezingly. “Miss Dorothea Crewe.”      

       And Miss MacDowlas settled her eye-glass and gave Miss Dorothea Crewe the benefit of a prolonged examination.     

       “Crewe,” she said, at length. “Poor relation, I suppose?” with some sharpness of manner. Dignity was lost upon Miss MacDowlas.     

       “A branch of my family who are no great credit to it,” was the majestic rejoinder.     

       “Oh, indeed,” was the lady's sole remark, and then Miss MacDowlas 

 Prev. P 31/230 next