As for Sheila she was undergoing a new experience. She had not been reproved since she was a child, her uncle having spoilt her hopelessly; so to be called to book by this pretty beggar maid, diverted her immensely, and would have done so more had it not been for the angry flash of the brown eyes confronting her.
"You surely can't mind losing your old clothes, Meg, as you have such lovely ones in their place. I never thought you would want to see them again. I thought they would remind you of those sad times you have told me about."
"But they were mine," said the girl with a passionate ring in her voice. "You had no right to put 'em away without asking me. They didn't belong to you."
"I'm so sorry," said Sheila really distressed. "I wish I hadn't done it. I never thought you'd mind."
Meg made no answer, but the fact that her old clothes had been consigned to the flames took away the pleasure for a time of the new ones. However it was not long before she recovered, and that evening she spent trying all the easy chairs and sofas in the drawing-room, and looking curiously at the various bits of china and pictures.
It all seemed wonderful to her. She sometimes almost wondered if she were still living in the same world, or if it was the beginning of heaven. Sheila was so kind and interested in her that she could not but be happy.
That night after saying good-night to Meg, Sheila went into Miss Gregson's room to see her before going to bed.
"She's quite fascinating," pronounced the girl, "and how lovely she looked in my black dress. And you can't think what a character she is. She was tolerably quiet while you were in the room, but you should just hear her when we are alone. She is the quaintest creature."
"She is certainly very pretty," said Miss Gregson, but she was so certain that this fancy of Sheila's would not last, that her tone of voice was not enthusiastic enough for her companion.
"I don't believe you approve of my plan of keeping her," said Sheila.