Notwithstanding this lack of white biscuits the girls managed to make a very satisfactory meal, after which Harriot slipped into her dressing-gown to go back to her own room. But Dorothea stopped her.
“I’ve a lovely idea,” she cried suddenly. “Why don’t you wear one of my dresses and hats when we go to call on Corinne?”
Harriot seized on this suggestion with avidity.
“She might think we were strangers and give us fruit cake,” she suggested. “No one can make fruit cake like Aunt Dilsey, even now she has nothing to make it of.”
Dorothea’s dress being long for Harriot gave her a more mature look, which led naturally to rearranging her hair and she was very shortly a quite grown-up Harriot who at once assumed airs to fit her fine raiment. Lucy, vastly entertained by these plans, lent her quick fingers to the task and when it was finished expressed herself satisfied.
“Foh de land’s sake, Miss Harry!” she cried, stepping back to view her handiwork, “yoh sure is prettier than I eveh thought yoh could be. Lil’ Miss betteh look out for she’s beaux when you done come along dressed up.”
“Don’t be foolish,” Harriot retorted, but she was pleased, nevertheless. The fact was that her dress of green cashmere with a sacque and hat of deeper hue were most becoming and she made a charming picture.
“Come,” said Dorothea, “I want to show you off to Aunt Parthenia.”
But at this Harriot demurred.
“Mother’s apt to be mighty busy,” she objected. “Wait till we come back.”