“What am I to do about a bonnet?” said Harriet, as they sat at work, and after a pause, as if she had been summoning courage to commence a rather disagreeable subject.
“About a bonnet?” said Mary, repeating the question.
“Yes, I must have a new one; the old straw is so burnt by the sun, that it is far too shabby to wear at Mrs. Somerton’s; and it looks even worse by the side of this bright new silk dress, than with a common one.”
“I know that,” replied Mary, with a sigh, “but you cannot afford a new one. If you remember, we both agreed to have new ribbons to the old bonnets, and thus make them serve.”
“Yes, and so you may do, Mary, very well; even if you were to go on wearing your bonnet as it is, old ribbon and all, I do not see that it would much signify; but it will be different with me at Mrs. Somerton’s, you know.”
“Yet, though no one sees me here,” replied the younger sister, musing, as if to consider if it were possible to save the price of her own ribbon, as something towards procuring the new bonnet which Harriet said she “must” have, “though nobody sees me, it is right at least to be neat and clean, and really my bonnet strings are very dirty.”
“Could you not wash them?” said Harriet, really blushing at the meanness and selfishness of her own suggestion.
“I did not think of that before. Yes, I can
wash the ribbon, and I shall not much care about it looking faded and shabby, if it be clean. So, at all events, there will be that money towards purchasing what new things you still require.”
“I am sure it is very good of you, Mary,” replied her sister, the anxious expression of her countenance somewhat relaxing; but, alas! this was only the removal of one of many similar troubles. The bright dress and the new bonnet required many other articles to correspond, for the purchasing of each of which some new sacrifice was exacted from the gentle Mary. And Harriet suffered all this for the selfish gratification of a mere vanity, which, disdaining their humble abode, and so repining at God’s will, which had changed her position from wealth to poverty, sought, at any hazard, to flutter in fine clothes, and to maintain a false appearance! Instead of perceiving the beautiful and unselfish character which Mary was developing, in the careful and cheerful discharge of her humble duties, Harriet had latterly begun to feel contempt for her,—a feeling which grew so strongly, that, before she departed on her visit, she had quite arrived at the conclusion that Mary was a very