I think that nothing in the world shows truer affection than that curious resentment against any change in the appearance of those we love.
Regina, all unconscious of the gossip that with her for its central figure was floating about the Park, went slowly down the road in the direction of Ye Dene. Truth to tell, she was a little shy of facing her family in her new guise. It was then after six o’clock; in fact, it was fast approaching the hour of seven. Now it happened that Julia had been off on an expedition to town with one of the Marksby girls, and had only arrived home about ten minutes previously, and being tired had gone into the pleasant sitting-room which she and Maudie had hitherto shared between them. When Mrs. Whittaker came up the covered way Julia saw her from where she was sitting, for both the sitting-room door and the front door were wide open.
“Hullo, mother, are you back?” she called out.
Regina with a certain accession of color and a certain acceleration of heart beating, replied with a pleasant word and walked into Julia’s sitting-room.
“Oh, you’ve not been back long?” she said.
Julia did not reply. It was not perhaps a remark that called for any special attention in the way of answer, but if it had it would have been all the same.
“Why, mother—” and she stared at Regina as if she were indeed fitted for the padded room which had been mentioned a few minutes previously.
“I have got a new toque,” said Regina.
“Oh, the toque is all right—a little big—”