"I offered my services the other day, but they were declined," said she.
"On account of your mode of dress, I presume," said he.
Janet bowed.
"If my obligations to your father had not been so great that they can never be repaid, I might feel that I was taking too great a liberty, if I should venture to express any disapproval of anything that you might think proper to do. But I will run the risk of displeasing you, and ask you whether you think it worth while, even supposing one mode of dress to possess far more real superiority over the prevailing fashion than the one does which you have adopted, to sacrifice not only your social enjoyments, but your usefulness, for the purpose of making an ineffectual attempt to change a fashion under which so many people have lived in health and comfort, that it will be difficult to persuade them that it is injurious?"
"At home, my style of dress was not thought so wrong," said Janet. "There are not many places, I think, where I should not have met with more liberality and charity than in Westbridge."
"All over the world, Miss Janet"—and, for the first time, the professor called Miss McLeod by her Christian name—"dress is considered as an exponent of character. When a person is thrown among strangers, they are judged almost as much by that as by their countenance. And when they adopt a style of dress, the mark of a particular clique, they are considered as indorsing all the opinions belonging to it. Now, the ideas of the Bloomerites are many of them so flighty, and have so little reason or common sense in them, that I am sure you are not acquainted with them, or you would not so openly rank yourself with their party."
Poor Janet had heard her father talk for hours about the absurdity of the usual mode of dress, and the advantages of the Bloomer costume; but now, in her time of need, she could not recall a single one of his arguments. Not that she was entirely overpowered by the professor's reasons, but, partly from her own observation of his character, and partly from general report, she had imbibed so high an opinion of Mr. Mainwaring's judgment and understanding, that she felt unequal to opposing him. There was a soundness in his opinions, with a firmness and strength in his whole nature, to which she yielded an unconscious deference.
This was by no means the only conversation Mr. Mainwaring and Janet had on the subject of her unfortunate dress. Slowly and gradually the young girl began to realize that she might have been wasting the whole energies of her earnest nature in a Quixotic contest with what was in itself harmless. At any rate, she became convinced that "le jeu ne vaut pas le chandelle," and yet she was unwilling to take any decided step without consulting her father. She was afraid that he would be greatly disappointed in her, when he found her so weak that she shrank from the notice and comments her attire attracted.
Seeing that Miss McLeod was disinclined to make the effort, Mr. Mainwaring wrote himself to Mr. McLeod, who, although he was unable to appreciate the "delicate distresses" which Mrs. Atwood had hinted at, as the consequence of his daughter's singularity, was alarmed and distressed at the idea of her illness. He came immediately to Westbridge, and took Janet home to recruit. But, before he went, Mr. Mainwaring had a long conversation with him, and, either by his cogent arguments, or because some new crotchet had displaced the old one, he obtained his permission that Janet should resume the flowing robes against which he had once declared such unsparing antipathy.
During the next summer, Janet stopped for a few weeks at Mrs. Atwood's, on her way to Saratoga, and we took advantage of the opportunity to call upon her, acting towards her as though this were her first visit to Westbridge, and considering it an act of delicate politeness to ignore the fact that the young lady, whom we saw so simply and tastefully attired, had any connection with the Bloomer who had awakened our horror not long before.