"
I did not want to think about it. I expected, of course, to
put on the same dress I had worn the last time. But Mrs.
Sandford objected very strongly.
"You must not wear the same thing twice running," she said;
"not if you can help it."
I could not imagine why not.
"It is quite nice enough," I urged. "It is scarcely the least
mussed in the world."
"People will think you have not another, my dear."
"What matter would that be?" I said, wholly puzzled.
"Now, my dear Daisy!" said Mrs. Sandford, half laughing, —
"you are the veriest Daisy in the world, and do not understand
the world that you grow in. No matter; just oblige me, and put
on something else to-night. What have you got?"
I had other dresses like the rejected one. I had another
still, white like them, but of different make and quality. I
hardly knew what it was, for I had never worn it; to please
Mrs. Sandford I took it out now. She was pleased. It was, like
the rest, out of the store my mother had sent me; a soft India
muslin, of beautiful texture, made and trimmed as my mother
and a Parisian artist could manage between them.
Pages:
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499
500
501
502
503
504
505
506
507
508
509
510
511
512
513
514