“Some of them would not fit you, but this costume would. Will you put it on to-morrow? Will you at least wear it to-morrow for my sake?”
Of course there are all sorts of prides, and it did seem wrong to hurt Miss Donnithorne, and the temptation to look nice was great. So I said softly, “I will wear it to-morrow—yes, I will wear it to-morrow—because you wish me to.”
“Then you are a darling child,” said Miss Donnithorne.
She gave a great sigh of relief, jumped up from her seat, and kissed me.
Soon after that, being very tired with the adventures of the day, I went to bed. How delicious that bed was—so warm, so white, so inviting! How gaily the fire blazed in the grate, sending up little jets of flame, and filling the room with a sense of comfort! Miss Donnithorne came in, and saw that I had hot water and everything I required, and left me.
I undressed slowly, in the midst of my unwonted luxury. Perhaps if I lived always with Miss Donnithorne I should be a different sort of girl; I might even grow up less of a Dumps. But of course not. Nothing could lengthen my nose, or shorten my upper lip, or make me big. I must make up my mind to be quite the plainest girl it had ever been my own misfortune to meet. For I had met myself at last in the looking-glass in Miss Donnithorne’s bedroom; myself and myself had come face to face.
In the midst of my pleasure a scalding tear rolled down one of my cheeks at the memory of that poor reflection. I had been proud to be called Rachel, but now I was almost glad that most of my world knew me as Dumps.
Notwithstanding these small worries, however, I slept like a top, and woke in the morning to see Nancy busy lighting the fire.
“Oh dear!” I said, “I don’t want a fire to dress by.”
“Yes, you do, miss, to-day, for it’s bitter cold,” said Nancy.