“We will both sit here,” said Mrs. King, “then I will tell you about my little girl who used to sit here with me.”
How Julia’s heart ached for her friend as she told her of her love for her own dear girl, of the plans they had made, of the sudden sickness and death, and of the loneliness of the big house since she had gone! She had thought Mrs. King had everything to make her happy, yet the thing she wanted most she could not have.
“Her hair was much like yours and sometimes, as you have passed, I have wished I could comb yours as I did hers. Would you mind if I did?” said the mother.
“I should love to have you,” said Julia.
“Well, then, when the fire has died out, we will go up to her room. In the drawer there I have a little white dress that perhaps you would like. I will comb your hair just as I did hers and see if the dress will fit you,” said Mrs. King. “If you look sweet and girlish in it, I will give it to you.”
While Mrs. King slipped away to get the things needed for the hairdressing, Julia went to the great white bathroom, and when she came out her face was sweet and clean and every trace of the paint and powder was gone. Her pretty brown hair was down her back in ringlets 103 and her face wore a look which the girls at the office had never seen there.
Then Mrs. King brushed, and brushed, and brushed till the hair was soft and shiny. Low in her neck she coiled it, making it look girlish and neat, fastening it with a tiny velvet circlet. Then Julia held her breath as Mrs. King took from a drawer a little white dress. It was a simple silk mull but it was prettily made. Below it was a dainty petticoat and at the bottom of the drawer were white oxfords and fine, lisle stockings.
“These were ready for her graduation, dear, but she never wore them once after they were made,” said the mother softly, as she fingered the dress lovingly.
There were tears in the eyes of the mother and tears in the eyes of the girl as the dress was put on. And when Julia looked into the mirror she seemed to see a strange girl. How little she looked like the girls in the office! But she liked her hair—and she liked the looks of her face—and she loved the simple, white dress.
Last of all Mrs. King slipped about her neck a little string of pearls. “These are my gift to you, Julia,” she said. “Wear them when you think you are dressed as you and I have planned to-night and be as beautiful as the pearls. Remember, dear, we may put beautiful things on the outside but they can never make us beautiful. It comes from the inside because of what we are. It stands the test of study. It is always real. A girl who does not live up to the best she knows can well be called a coward. Good night, dear, I am glad there is a girlie who loves me.”