I was the first in my room; but before the end of the day they all came pouring in; the two older and the two younger girls. "Here's somebody already," exclaimed Miss Macy as she saw me. "Why, Daisy Randolph! is it possible that's you? Is it Daisy Randolph? What have you done to yourself? How you have improved!"
"She is very much improved," said Miss Bentley more soberly.
"She has been learning the fashions," said Miss Lansing, her bright eyes dancing as good-humouredly as ever. "Daisy, now when your hair gets long you'll look quite nice. That frock is made very well."
"She is changed," said Miss St. Clair, with a look I could not quite make out.
"No," I said; "I hope I am not changed."
"Your dress is," said St. Clair.
I thought of Dr. Sandford's "L'habit, c'est l'homme." "My mother had this dress made," I said; "and I ordered the other one; that is all the difference."
"You're on the right side of the difference, then," said Miss St. Clair.
"Has your mother come back, Daisy?" Miss Lansing asked.