Yes, reader, in December; for winter clothing they had none, and their parents were abroad.
Mrs. Vyner's neglect is perhaps excusable when we reflect how young she was, and how unfit for the position she occupied; but the effects of that neglect were very important.
"Poor things!" exclaimed Letitia Hoskins, a citizen's daughter, in all the insolence engendered by consols; "their father can't afford to clothe them."
"Yet why doesn't he send them to a cheaper school?" suggests Amelia Wingfield.
"Vulgar pride. I dare say he's some shop-keeper. He wishes his daughters to be educated with ladies."
"Meant for governesses, I shouldn't wonder."
"Most likely, poor things!"
In vain did Rose and Blanche repeatedly answer such assertions, by declaring their father's family was one of the most ancient in England (Miss Hoskins gave an exasperating chuckle of ridicule at that), and was worth twelve thousand a year. A derisive shout was the only answer. The girls would not have believed it, however credible; and it was on the face of it a very incredible statement, coming from girls who, as Letty Hoskins once observed, "had the meanness to come there with a sovereign each, and one pot of bears' grease between them. Girls who were never dressed half so genteelly as her mama's maid."
"And learn no extras," added little Miss Pinkerton, with a toss of her head. "When I told Rose that I had got on so well with my drawing (especially the shading!) that Mr. Hibbert said I might soon begin drawing with Creoles, she burst out laughing, and said she had never heard of that branch of the art before. Fancy a girl of nineteen never having heard of drawing with Creoles!"
"With crayons, I suppose you mean," suggested Amelia Wingfield, contemptuously.