"I 'most like a lady, like Missis Alexander," she cried. And indeed there was no prettier lady within a hundred miles.
She stood and looked at herself and trembled.
"Oh, oh," said Jenny.
And then she found that the dress fastened up the back.
"I no savvy how can do it," said Jenny in great trouble. "If I do um up firs' I no get in and if I no do um up it fall off. How can white lady do, when she have no one help her?"
It was an awful puzzle which she could not solve. A worse trouble was at hand, however, for when she tried to put on the shoes meant for her they were too small.
"What I do?" asked Jenny of herself in the glass. "My ole shoes no good and my foot too big for this little shoe. I have shem go without shoe and with dless undone. I wis' I had someone help me. But alla same I very pretty I tink, but I have shame of everything. I no more good, no more virtuous—"
Her lip hung down preparatory to her bursting into tears. But Quin knocked at the door.
"Muckamuck ready, tenas Jenny," he said. And Jenny murmured that she would come directly.
"He very kind man I tink," said Jenny, "I ask him through the door if he mind I no have shoe."