“I’d rather not ask Louise,” explained Vicky, “because—well, she laughs so about everything. She might laugh at me. And that other girl is sort of grown-up talking. But—well, it’s—I’d like to be like the rest of the people—other little girls, you know—and it’s dreadfully hard when you haven’t any father or mother, and your uncle’s an artist with a temp’rament. Sometimes he gets us governesses, and they say we’re queer, and sometimes we just do as we please. But—well, there isn’t anybody to show us things.”
She looked at Winona wistfully, as if she thought she could show her how to be just like other children all at once.
“Why do people always come to me to show them how?” wondered Winona to herself. “I don’t know any more about how to do things than the other girls.”
She did not realize that it was her sunniness and sympathy—her Ray-of-Lightness, as Louise called it—together with a certain straightforward common sense, that made girls who wanted help come to her. They could be sure that she would not laugh at them, or tell anyone else what they had said, and they were sure of advice that had brightness and sense.
“What sort of things do you want me to tell you?” asked Winona. “I’d love to help you, but some of the others know lots more about things than I do.”
“It’s you I want to ask,” said Vicky decidedly. “It’s my clothes, to begin with. Are they right?”
Winona stopped and looked Vicky over. They were out in the open by now, and it was bright moonlight, so she could see plainly what the little girl had on. It was a blue taffeta, very stiff and rustling, trimmed with plaid taffeta and black buttons. By its looks it had been bought ready-made, for it had a sort of gaudy smartness. It was of good material, but somehow, it was cheap-looking. Also by its looks, bread-and-butter had been eaten on or near it.
“You mean your dress?”
“Yes,” said Vicky. “It isn’t right, is it? But I don’t know what to do about it. I bought it myself.”
“You mean your uncle gives you the money, and you go and buy your own things?” asked Winona.