As she spoke she held out her hand for the keys of their trunks.
“Here are the keys,” said Marjorie; “but I don’t know what evening-dresses we have. I am sure there is
nothing fit to be seen. But can’t we go downstairs as we are?”
“Perhaps you’ll mend this braid,” said Eileen, “if you prefer that to cutting it off, which is much quicker.”
“I would suggest, miss, that you let me choose your dress. I will unpack your things, and see what are most suitable,” said the maid in her prim voice.
“All right; lay them on the bed. Anything for a quiet life,” sighed Marjorie.
Esther proceeded to take the things out of Marjorie’s trunk, and Eileen walked to the window and looked out, whistling somewhat loudly and in a thoroughly boyish fashion as she did so.
The maid quickly put the contents of the small trunks into the receptacles for their convenience, laid two soiled and crumpled evening-frocks of pale cream cashmere on the beds, and then retired to expend some of her skill, which was considerable, on Letitia’s pretty person and charming wardrobe. Letitia was a young lady quite after Esther’s own heart.
[CHAPTER IV—IN THE GIRLS’ BEDROOMS.]
Marjorie and Eileen, in soiled and much bedraggled school-party frocks, went down to dinner. Letitia, in pale-blue silk with lace ruffles, looked neat, pretty, and suitably attired; but the other two girls presented an appearance which caused poor Mrs. Chetwynd to shudder. With their really handsome faces, their wide-open intelligent eyes, their exquisitely-formed lips, and pearly rows of teeth, they were nothing but awkward, gauche, and unpresentable. Letitia was as pretty, trim, and agreeable to the eye as a young girl could be; but Eileen and Marjorie! What was to be done? Mrs. Chetwynd felt her heart sinking like lead in her breast; for there was a stubborn build about Marjorie’s chin and about the slight, very slight frown which now and then visited Eileen’s intelligent forehead. Mrs. Chetwynd perceived at a glance that if she was to mold these two girls to her ways of thinking, she would have a troublesome task before her. She was rich, and was also good-hearted, good-natured, and pleasant. It was in no way her fault if the girls took after their father, who had been not only a brave soldier, but also that strange combination, a scholar, as well, and who had died before the girls’ education was complete. He was a man of extraordinary character and determination, and had all his life been the victim of fads. Mrs. Chetwynd felt quite certain that their father was to blame for Marjorie’s and Eileen’s peculiar appearance. She