beautiful things in the world! Had I ought to have 'em? Ain't they
too young for me?"

"There is no age for underclothing. Don't you want them? Isn't that
the loveliest nightgown? Don't you want it?"

"Yes, I'd like to have it, but--" Drusilla thought of her two Canton
flannel nightdresses lying in her little trunk.

"Well, you shall have them. And this fluffy gray dressing-gown--it is
a dear. We will take that too; and this pretty bed-jacket. Look at
the embroidery on it. You must have that, so if you have breakfast in
bed--and _look_ at this dear lace cap. When you sit up in bed, with
the tray in front of you, and this little jacket on, and the cap,
with a little of your hair showing beneath it, why, you'll look nice
enough to _eat_. Now we'll go and buy stockings, pretty gray silk
ones, and shoes, and slippers; and we mustn't forget about the
milliner. I know the _loveliest_ place; Madame will know just what to
give you."

Drusilla enjoyed the milliner's the most of all; for there she tried
on hat after hat--not ugly bonnets but cleverly arranged creations
for an old lady that seemed to remove the lines from her face and
made her feel that perhaps, after all, she could take a part and
share in the beautiful things of this new beautiful world, instead of
a mere looker on.

At last they were taken to one of the great modistes, a creator of
gowns known on two continents, and Daphne had Miss Doane wait in a
reception-room while she interviewed the great lady herself. This