“Sister,” Miss Lucinda was saying, “you know there is still an hour to wait before our train goes. Suppose we take a little longer walk down the other side of the way;” and they strolled slowly back again. In fact, they nearly missed the train, naughty girls! Hetty would have been so worried, they assured each other, but they reached the station just in time.
“Lutie,” said Miss Dobin, “put up your hand and part it from your forehead; it seems to be getting a little out of place;” and Miss Lucinda, who had just got breath enough to speak, returned the information that Miss Dobin’s was almost covering her eyebrows. They might have to trim them a little shorter; of course it could be done. The darkness was falling; they had taken an early dinner before they started, and now they were tired and hungry after the exertion of the afternoon, but the spirit of youth flamed afresh in their hearts, and they were very happy. If one’s heart remains young, it is a sore trial to have the outward appearance entirely at variance. It was the ladies’ nature to be girlish, and they found it impossible not to be grateful to the flimsy, ineffectual disguise which seemed to set them right with the world. The old conductor, who had known them for many years, looked hard at them as he took their tickets, and, being a man of humor and compassion, affected not to notice anything remarkable in their appearance. “You ladies never mean to grow old, like the rest of us,” he said gallantly, and the sisters fairly quaked with joy. Their young hearts would forever keep them truly unconscious of the cruel thievery of time.
“Bless us!” the obnoxious Mrs. Woolden was saying, at the other end of the car. “There’s the old maid Dobbinses, and they’ve bought ’em some bangs. I expect they wanted to get thatched in a little before real cold weather; but don’t they look just like a pair o’ poodle dogs.”
The little ladies descended wearily from the train. Somehow they did not enjoy a day’s shopping as much as they used. They were certainly much obliged to Hetty for sending her niece’s boy to meet them, with a lantern; also for having a good warm supper ready when they came in. Hetty took a quick look at her mistresses, and returned to the kitchen. “I knew somebody would be foolin’ of ’em,” she assured herself angrily, but she had to laugh. Their dear, kind faces were wrinkled and pale, and the great frizzes had lost their pretty curliness, and were hanging down, almost straight and very ugly, into the ladies’ eyes. They could not tuck them up under their caps, as they were sure might be done.
Then came a succession of rainy days, and nobody visited the rejuvenated household. The frisettes looked very bright chestnut by the light of day, and it must be confessed that Miss Dobin took the scissors and shortened Miss Lucinda’s half an inch, and Miss Lucinda returned the compliment quite secretly, because each thought her sister’s forehead lower than her own. Their dear gray eyebrows were honestly displayed, as if it were the fashion not to have them match with wigs. Hetty at last spoke out, and begged her mistresses, as they sat at breakfast, to let her take the frizzes back and change them. Her sister’s daughter worked in that very shop, and though in the workroom, would be able to oblige them, Hetty was sure.
But the ladies looked at each other in pleased assurance, and then turned together to look at Hetty, who stood already a little apprehensive near the table, where she had just put down a plateful of smoking drop-cakes. The good creature really began to look old.
“They are worn very much in town,” said Miss Dobin. “We think it was quite fortunate that the fashion came in just as our hair was growing a trifle thin. I dare say we may choose those that are a shade duller in color when these are a little past. Oh, we shall not want tea this evening, you remember, Hetty. I am glad there is likely to be such a good night for the sewing circle.” And Miss Dobin and Miss Lucinda nodded and smiled.
“Oh, my sakes alive!” the troubled handmaiden groaned. “Going to the circle, be they, to be snickered at! Well, the Dobbin girls they was born, and the Dobbin girls they will remain till they die; but if they ain’t innocent Christian babes to those that knows ’em well, mark me down for an idjit myself! They believe them front-pieces has set the clock back forty year or more, but if they’re pleased to think so, let ’em!”
Away paced the Dulham ladies, late in the afternoon, to grace the parish occasion, and face the amused scrutiny of their neighbors. “I think we owe it to society to observe the fashions of the day,” said Miss Lucinda. “A lady cannot afford to be unattractive. I feel now as if we were prepared for anything!”