"I am going to Wyndward Hall to-morrow," she said, with a smile, "and I have got nothing to wear, Mrs. Penfold!" and she laughed.
Mrs. Penfold threw up her hands after the manner of her kind.
"To the Hall, Miss Stella, to-morrow! Oh, dear, what shall we do?" Then she glanced at the arm-chair, and beckoned Stella out of the room.
"Come up-stairs, then, and let us see what we can manage. To the Hall! Think of that!" and she threw up her head proudly.
Stella sat on a chair, looking on with a smile, while the scanty wardrobe was overhauled.
Scanty as it was it contained everything that was needful for such use as Stella might ordinarily require, but a dinner at the Hall was quite out of the ordinary. At last, after holding up dress after dress, and dropping it with a shake of the head, Mrs. Penfold took up a cream sateen.
"That's very pretty," said Stella.
"But it's only sateen!" exclaimed Mrs. Penfold.
"It looks like satin—a little," said Stella "by candlelight, at least."
"And they have real satin, and silks, and velvets," deplored Mrs. Penfold, eagerly.