P.S. I am so happy!
December 16th.
I looked out of my window this morning and the trees glistened prettily in the sunlight. I could not help thinking of the Fairy Godmother. But I mustn’t think these thoughts. I am a grown-up person of eighteen. Though it doesn’t matter what I write here, as I am never going to show this diary to anybody, not even to the beloved Mumsie.
After breakfast we, that is, Mumsie and I, set out on a shopping expedition. I knew them all by name: Horace’s, Lewis’s, and Carlisle’s; I had at home pored over their advertisements so often. And just to think I was really going to visit them and buy lots of things! Dad had given me one hundred dollars, saying I must dress myself properly. One hundred dollars! I have never before had so much money to spend. Poor Dad! he must find it so dull living in the country, and his patients are such poor pay.
We went to Lewis’s first and bought an evening dress and the duckiest little hat that ever was, and after that we went to Horace’s. This I knew was really the fashionable shop. Mumsie said we were to buy a suit; she said I would need one. Indeed, I already felt I was shabby, and was sorry I had not put on my new hat at Lewis’s and had my old one sent home.
I gasped as we entered Horace’s, the dresses were all so grand, and there were so many ladies present. No person paid any attention to us at first; but when they did they looked at Mumsie first and then at me, and their eyes (I think) lingered on me.
After we had made our purchases, Mumsie took me to a ribbon counter, not far away from a most beautifully dressed woman. Her ermine stole did not hide a diamond and sapphire brooch at her throat. Her blue velvet suit was in the latest fashion. She was large and dark. Her face was rounded, and lofty eyebrows made her eyes appear prominent. A cold, deliberate manner gave the impression of absolute control. She bowed to Mumsie and my heart went into my mouth. I am silly to be so fluttered and shy. The strange lady advanced and held her hand out to Mumsie.
“How do you do Mrs. Somers? How is Mr. Somers? I hope you are all well.”
“Quite well, thank you,” replied Mumsie, not too genially I thought.
“You will take a hand in our Ragamuffins’ Feast, won’t you?”