A little girl of about ten, dressed in a bright pink skirt and a bright blue waist, stood before them. This startling color combination was enhanced by a red sash, which, though faded in streaks, was wide and tied at the back in a voluminous bow. The girl's naturally straight hair had apparently been urged by artificial means to curl in ringlets, but only a part of it had succumbed to the hot iron. The rest fairly bristled in its stiff straightness, and the whole mop was tied up with a large bow of red ribbon.
This rainbow-hued specimen of humanity opened the door with a flourish and bowed to the visitors with an air of extreme elegance.
Marjorie looked at her in astonishment. The gorgeous trappings and the formal demeanor of the child made her think she must have mistaken the house.
"Is this Mrs. Dunn's house?" she inquired, with some hesitation.
"Yes; I'm Miss Dunn," said the child, with such a ridiculous air of affectation that Molly giggled outright.
"Yes," Miss Dunn went on, "I am the eldest daughter. My name is Ella.
They call me the Elegant Ella, but I don't mind."
"I am Marjorie Maynard and Mrs. Sherwood is my grandmother. She heard your mother was ill and she sent her these baskets."
"How kind of her!" exclaimed the Elegant Ella, clasping her hands and rolling up her eyes. "Won't you come in?"
As Marjorie and Molly had been with difficulty balancing themselves on the broken boards of the porch, they were glad to accept the invitation.
Their first glance at the interior of the cottage showed that the rest of the family and the ways of the house did not at all harmonize with the manner and appearance of the eldest daughter.