The weeping child soon stood in the hall; hartshorn and water was brought to her by Ella, but on tasting it, the girl pushed it away in disgust, in a peevish and irritable manner. In vain Mrs. Claremont sought for any trace of injury; the road had been soft after much rain, and not a scratch nor a bruise appeared; yet still the girl cried as if in agony of pain or of passion.
“Where are you hurt?” inquired Ella soothingly; the child only answered by a fresh burst of tears.
“I am thankful that no harm seems done,” said Mrs. Claremont.
“There is harm!” sobbed the girl; “all spoiled, quite, quite spoiled!”
“What is spoiled?”
THE SPOILED DRESS.
“My dress, my beautiful new dress!” and the ladies now observed, for the first time, the absurd and unsuitable manner in which the child had been clothed. Now, indeed, her finery was half covered with mud; but the pink bonnet, though crushed, the white dress, though stained and torn, the gay blue necklace, and hair in curl-papers, showed too plainly the folly of the wearer.
“What is your name?” inquired Ella.