“Oh, they are not ladies,” explained Miss Usher, who was distinctly disconcerted.
“Yes; but how am I to know the differ between the talk of ladies and the talk of them as is not?—not being a lady meself.”
“Oh, you will soon understand.”
“But those two are dressed as well as I am, and better,” protested the girl, “and how——”
“Dress reminds me,” interrupted Miss Usher, “that you have several fittings to-morrow, and a busy day”; and, suddenly rising to her feet, she added, “It is getting on for ten o’clock. Shall we retire?”
On the way to their rooms, the two paused on a landing before a great mirror; they halted involuntarily, and gazed at themselves as they stood side by side; or rather, they both gazed at the reflection of Lady Joseline Dene.
“I’m just a daw in peacock’s feathers!” she exclaimed at last. “It’s all mighty fine, my beautiful dress, and my hair done up in the fashion. Oh, dear me! I’m a regular take-in. I shall never be as nice as I look.”
“Yes, you will,” said her companion, leading her into her room; “and remember, dear child, that you are nice to your father when he comes to-morrow.”
“I’m all in a tremble, when I think of it. How can I be nice?”