to explain.

"How different?" asked Polly again, for she liked to understand
things.

"Well, you dress like a little girl, for one thing."

"I am a little girl; so why should n't I?" and Polly looked at her
simple blue merino frock, stout boots, and short hair, with a
puzzled air.

"You are fourteen; and we consider ourselves young ladies at that
age," continued Fanny, surveying, with complacency, the pile of
hair on the top of her head, with a fringe of fuzz round her
forehead, and a wavy lock streaming down her back; likewise, her
scarlet-and-black suit, with its big sash, little pannier, bright
buttons, points, rosettes, and, heaven knows what. There was a
locket on her neck, earrings tinkling in her ears, watch and chain at
her belt, and several rings on a pair of hands that would have been
improved by soap and water.

Polly's eye went from one little figure to the other, and she thought
that Fanny looked the oddest of the two; for Polly lived in a quiet
country town, and knew very little of city fashions. She was rather
impressed by the elegance about her, never having seen Fanny's
home before, as they got acquainted while Fanny paid a visit to a
friend who lived near Polly. But she did n't let the contrast between
herself and Fan trouble her; for in a minute she laughed and said,
contentedly, "My mother likes me to dress simply, and I don't
mind. I should n't know what to do rigged up as you are. Don't you