She was neat as a new pin as she sat awaiting her visitor. Her clothes had been looked over, and the best selected. There was nothing to pack them in, however, except a small, moth-eaten hair trunk, or a dilapidated bandbox; and the latter was Florence's detestation.
"I can do them up in a paper," she said; and Charlie was sent to scour the neighborhood for the required article.
Mrs. Osgood and Mrs. Duncan came together. The latter lady had laughed a little at her sister's plan at first; but, when she found it was really serious, thought it would be as well for her to try it a month.
Mrs. Duncan was rather exclusive, and had a horror of crowds of poor people's children.
"It would be so much better to take some one who had no relatives," she said.
"I shall not adopt the whole family, you may be sure," was the response.
Some of Mrs. Duncan's prejudices were surmounted by the general order and tidiness to which Florence had reduced matters; and she was wonderfully well-bred, considering her disadvantages.
"I shall keep her for a month, while I remain at Seabury; and, if I should want her afterward, we can make some new arrangements," Mrs. Osgood explained. "I shall see, of course, that she has ample remuneration."
Florence colored. Living with such a grand lady seemed enough, without any pay.