there was another whispered conversation among the three.

Elizabeth felt disapproval in the air. Aunt Nan came, and sat down beside
her, and talked very coldly about expenses and being dependent upon one's
relatives, and let her understand thoroughly that she could not sit around
and do nothing; but Elizabeth answered by telling her how the manager had
been treating her. The aunt then gave her a dose of worldly wisdom, which
made the girl shrink into herself. It needed only Lizzie's loud-voiced
exhortations to add to her misery and make her feel ready to do anything.
Supper was a most unpleasant meal. At last the grandmother spoke up.

"Well, Bessie," she said firmly, "we've decided, all of us, that, if you
are going to be stubborn about this, something will have to be done; and I
think the best thing is for you to go to Mrs. Bailey and see what she'll
do for you. It's her business, anyway."

Elizabeth's cheeks were very red. She said nothing. She let them go on
with the arrangements. Lizzie went and got her best hat, and tried it on
Elizabeth to see how she would look, and produced a silk waist from her
store of garments, and a spring jacket. It wasn't very warm, it is true;
but Lizzie explained that the occasion demanded strenuous measures, and
the jacket was undoubtedly stylish, which was the main thing to be
considered. One could afford to be cold if one was stylish.

Lizzie was up early the next morning. She had agreed to put Elizabeth in
battle-array for her visit to Rittenhouse Square. Elizabeth submitted
meekly to her borrowed adornings. Her hair was brushed over her face, and
curled on a hot iron, and brushed backward in a perfect mat, and then
puffed out in a bigger pompadour than usual. The silk waist was put on
with Lizzie's best skirt, and she was adjured not to let that drag. Then