Chapter V.
Nan thought that the delight of this day never could be equalled by anything life would bring, even at Beverley. To begin with, she and Miss Phyllis started out in a luxurious carriage, which rolled them through the town, past the butter shop, where Mrs. Rupert was standing in the doorway, and deposited them at Mr. Lennon's large store, into which Nan had never gone half so proudly before.
"You needn't appear to recognize any one, Nan," Miss Phyllis said, just as they went in; and this dashed Nan's spirits just a little, for Mary Seymour, one of the girls in the millinery-room, was a particular friend of her aunt's; but then Miss Phyllis must know best, thought Nan, and she would trust to luck's keeping Mary out of their way.
NAN PRESENTED TO MISS PHYLLIS FOR APPROVAL.
Everybody was most polite to Miss Rolf; and when she said quietly, "I want to see your handsomest dresses, ready made, for this little girl," Nan could hardly move to follow them upstairs. Out of a long case, dress after dress was taken, held up, tried on, examined, and criticised by Miss Phyllis, who sat languidly with her purse and her note-book, evidently quite regardless of prices. It was well Nan's opinion was not asked, for she would never have dared to choose what Miss Phyllis did for her, a soft, seal brown wool costume, handsomely trimmed with silk, and with a jacket to match. Miss Phyllis quietly desired Nan to put these garments on; and when the saleswoman brought her back from the dressing-room, her cousin could not repress a smile of satisfaction; and really little Nan did credit to the quiet, lady-like costume. Miss Phyllis saw a great many possibilities in the child's bright face and pretty, slender figure.
The hat question came next, and here Nan's joy was somewhat dampened by her fear that Mary Seymour would appear and claim acquaintance, and thereby annoy Miss Phyllis; and sure enough, while she was trying on a beautiful brown felt hat with a scarlet wing in it, Mary Seymour's voice was heard cheerily from across the room.
"Why, Nan Rolf," she was saying, "is that you?"
And then Nan saw that her princess could look very different on different occasions. She turned a cold little stare upon poor Mary, and then said, in a tone that the shop-girl could hear perfectly, "Who is that, Annice?"
Now it was the first time Nan had been called by her full name since her father died, and between the start it gave her, and her little worry about Mary Seymour, she hardly knew what to say, and stood looking guiltily at her aunt's friend, with a rush of color in her face.
"It is Mary Seymour," she said, in a low voice.
Miss Phyllis waited a moment, the cold look still on her face; then she took Nan by the hand, and went across the room to where Mary was busy putting bonnet frames into a drawer.
"My little cousin is going away from Bromfield," she said, smiling, but speaking in the very chilliest tone. "Perhaps you had better say 'good-by' to her now. She is going to live with her aunt at Beverley."
Poor Mary stared at the beautiful young lady, and said nothing for a moment; then she stooped down and kissed Nan's little red check heartily.
"Well, good-luck go with you, Nannie dear," she said; and half understanding the impression Miss Rolf wished to make, she added, looking up with a sad smile, "I suppose it won't do to expect you to remember us any more, but Tommy'll miss you dreadfully."
"I'll write him a letter, Mary," Nan exclaimed, and seeing Miss Rolf's look of surprise turn to something like disgust, she added, "Tommy is Mary's lame little brother."
Miss Phyllis said nothing, but led the way back to the hats, and Nan, unable to restrain herself further, whispered, "Miss Rolf, Cousin Phyllis, why did you say I was going to live at Beverley, when it is only a visit?"
Miss Phyllis bit her lip angrily. "Never mind," was all she answered; and then the brown felt hat was chosen, and the purchases went on—gloves, and boots, and some dainty under-linen, and various small belongings, until finally all that remained on Miss Phyllis's list was a dressing-case and a trunk. Nan hardly knew which of the beautiful cases to choose when her cousin left it to her; but finally a black leather one with silver fastenings was selected, and Miss Phyllis directed the shopman to have Nan's initials, A. B. R., put on it in little silver letters.
By this time Nan, in her new brown suit, with her hands in three-button kid gloves, had begun to think she never, never could do justice to the day, to Philip and Marian, and yet a something had stolen over her of half dread to going back to the shop. Already she dreaded her aunt's voice; the noisy, greasy tea table, where only Philip made things endurable for her; so that when, as they left the last store, loading the carriage with parcels, and Miss Phyllis said, "I'm going to keep you for the night, Nan," my little heroine felt more than ever grateful and happy.