Penelope glanced at Briar with a wry face, and ran away singing out in a shrill voice:
| “Cross patch, draw the latch, Sit by the fire and spin.” |
She disappeared like a flash, and nurse followed her, murmuring angrily.
Briar ran into her bedroom. This room she shared with Patty and Adelaide. They also were wildly delighted with their beautiful blouses, and had not begun to dress when Briar appeared.
“I say, isn’t it all jolly?” said Briar. “Oh, Patty, what a duck yours is!—white. And Adelaide’s is white, too. But don’t you love mine? I must be a very pretty girl to cause Aunt Sophia to choose such a lovely shade of rose. I wonder if I am really a pretty girl. Do stand out of the way; I want to stare at myself in the glass.”
Briar ran to the dressing-table. There she pushed the glass into such an angle that she could gaze contentedly at her features. She saw a small, rather round face, cheeks a little flushed, eyes very dark and bright, quantities of bright brown curling hair, dark pencilled eyebrows, a little nose, and a small pink mouth.
“You are a charming girl, Briar Dale,” she said, “worthy of a rose-pink blouse. Patty, don’t you just love yourself awfully?”
“I don’t know,” said Patty. “I suppose every one does.”
“The Bible says it is very wrong to love yourself,” said Adelaide. “You ought to love other people and hate yourself.”
“Well, I am made the contrary,” said Briar. “I hate other people and love myself. Who wouldn’t love a darling little face like mine? Oh, I am just a duck! Help me into my new blouse, Patty.”