CHAPTER VIII.
"WILL YOU TAKE BACK THOSE WORDS, MAUD?"
A very few minutes were sufficient for the inspection of Annette's scanty stock of clothes. Averil's eyes grew misty over the little pile of coarse, neatly mended linen; the worn shoes, the pitiful contrivances, gave more than one pang to her warm heart.
"How can she contrive to look so ladylike?" she thought, as she remarked the frayed edges of her black gown; "none of them seem to have noticed that indefinable air that stamps her as a true gentlewoman. I wish Maud and Georgina had half such good manners; but they are thorough girls of the period."
Annette looked at her wistfully when the brief survey was over.
"I told you the truth, my cousin, did I not, when I said I was poor? In the Rue St. Joseph it did not seem to matter, but here, among all these fine people, I do not love to be shabby."
"Oh, we will alter all that," returned Averil, cheerfully. "I shall give you the same outfit I gave Lottie when she first came to live here. As I am to enact the part of fairy godmother, I am sorry that the pumpkin-coach is wanting; but we shall do very well, I dare say." And then, as she went to her room, she reproached herself for not being sufficiently grateful for her riches. "How often have I complained of the burden of my wealth!" she said to herself. "How often have I longed to shift my responsibilities and to betake myself to a cottage with Lottie and Unwin! Why am I so impatient, so cowardly? I ought to rejoice at the richness of the talent intrusted to me. 'Give an account of thy stewardship.' Yes, those awful words will one day sound in my ears. So much has been given me, that surely much will be required. Oh, what a poor creature I am, for I would willingly, thrice willingly give it all if only I could be like other girls!" Here she caught sight of herself in the glass, and a flush came into her pale, sad face. "No one—no one guesses my weakness; even Unwin, dear soul, only thinks I am tired and far from strong. But One knows," raising her eyes reverently; "and He who has laid this cross upon me will surely help me to carry more bravely to the end." And then she whispered, softly:
"'Multiply our graces,
Chiefly love and fear;
And, dear Lord, the chiefest
Grace to persevere.'"
That afternoon Annette thought she was in fairyland. If Averil had been a benevolent fairy and had waved her magic wand, she could not have worked greater wonders, and yet it was all so quietly done. Averil seemed to know just what she wanted, and her orders were executed in a marvelous way. They went to a linen warehouse first, and then drove to a dressmaker.