“I shall be sixteen on my birthday, and my birthday comes in May. It is a long way off yet.”
Then I gave a sigh, and felt a sudden contraction of my heart.
“Well, anyhow, dear, this is Quarter Day, the 21st of December. I have been speaking to your father, and he means to give you a dress allowance.”
“A what?” I said.
“A dress allowance, dear. You must, you know, have clothes suitable to your father’s daughter. Here is the first quarter’s money.”
She put two crisp Bank of England notes, worth five pounds each, into my hand. I started; I coloured crimson; I looked at the money.
“But I—I don’t know what to do with this,” I said.
“Oh yes, you will know very well what to do with it. Now the question is, would you like me to help you to choose some pretty dresses, or would you rather manage the whole affair yourself?”
Again there was that pathetic expression in her eyes which I had seen for a minute or two before. She was looking at me very earnestly. I was about to say, “Oh, will you help me to choose, for I don’t know anything about dress?” when I remembered the pretty dark-blue dress with the grey fur. That dress, which I always felt had been given me under false pretences, seemed to rise up now to slay the feeling of kindness which, in spite of everything, I could not help entertaining for my step-mother in my heart. “If you don’t greatly mind,” I said, “perhaps this first time I had better choose my own dresses.”
“As you like, dear, of course; but you mustn’t go alone. You might ask one of your schoolfellows to go with you. And, Dumps dear, ask as many of your friends in to tea as you like on Wednesday afternoons and Saturday afternoons; those are your half-holidays, and you can go to visit those whom I like you to know also on those days. I want you to have a very pleasant life, my dear child.”