“Oh, mother, how lovely!” exclaimed the girl. “Is it really for me? That is just what I wanted; my gold chain is so thin that I hardly ever dare to wear it. It has been broken twice. But this is far prettier.” And Bessie clasped the little necklace around her neck, and then went off proudly to show her treasure to Christine and Hatty, while Mrs. Lambert shed a few tears at the thought how little she had to give her girls. The next moment she dashed them away indignantly.
“I ought to be ashamed of myself,” she thought. “What would Herbert say if he found me crying in this childish way? What do our girls want with ornaments and pretty dresses? They have youth and good looks and manners. My Bessie is a perfect gentlewoman, in spite of her shabby frocks. No one could help being pleased with her gentle, modest ways. I expect it is my pride. I did not want Mrs. Sefton to think we are not rich. But I am wrong; my girls are rich. They are rich in having such a father, and in their own happy natures.” And then Mrs. Lambert thought of those other ornaments that she desired for them—the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit; the priceless jewels of innocence and purity, which are the fairest adornments of a young girl.
“These will not be lacking,” she said to herself. “My Bessie’s unobtrusive goodness will soon make itself felt.”
Bessie had made up her mind not to trouble about her scanty wardrobe, and she was quite happy planning the nun’s-cloth dress with Christine.
But though Dr. Lambert said nothing, he thought a great deal, and the result of his cogitations was, a five-pound note was slipped into Bessie’s hand the next evening.
“Go and buy yourself some finery with that,” he observed quietly.
Bessie could hardly sleep that night, she was so busy spending the money in anticipation; and the very next day she was the delighted purchaser of a new spring jacket and had laid out the remainder of the five-pound note in a useful black and white tweed for daily use, and a pretty lilac cotton, and she had even eked out a pair of gloves.
Three dresses to be made; no wonder they were busy; even Mrs. Lambert was pressed into the service to sew over seams and make buttonholes.
Hatty never complained her back ached when she worked for Bessie; her thin little hands executed marvelous feats of fine workmanship; all the finer parts were intrusted to Hatty.
“I feel almost as though I were going to be married,” observed Bessie, as she surveyed the fresh, dainty dresses. “I never had more than one new gown at a time. Now they are finished, and you are tired, Hatty, and you must go and lie down, like a good child.”