Ashcliffe Hall: A tale of the last century

Edward's Escape
A TALE OF THE LAST CENTURY.
EMILY SARAH HOLT
No joy is true, save that which hath no end; No life is true save that which liveth ever; No health is sound, save that which God doth send; No love is real, save that which fadeth never. —REV. HORATIUS BOMAR, D.D.
SAINT PAUL D. D. MERRILL COMPANY
CONTENTS.
CHAP.

ASHCLIFFE HALL.
I ask Thee for the daily strength To none that ask denied, A mind to blend with outward things While keeping at Thy side; Content to fill a little space So Thou be glorified. Miss Waring.
In a large bedroom, on an autumn afternoon, two girls were divesting themselves of their out-door attire after a walk. They were dressed alike, though their ages were eleven and nineteen. Their costume consisted of brown stuff petticoats, over which they wore cashmere gowns of a white ground, covered with brown-stemmed red flowers, and edged with quillings of green ribbon. These dresses were high in the back and on the shoulders, but were cut down square in the front. The sleeves reached to the elbows, and were there finished by white muslin frills. The girls wore high-heeled shoes, the heels being red, and brown worsted stockings, which the petticoat was short enough to show plainly. On the dressing-table before them lay two tall white muslin caps, called cornettes , abundant in frills and lace, but having no strings. The hair of both girls was dressed high over a frame, standing up some three inches above their heads; and when the elder put on her cap, it increased her apparent height by at least three inches more.