woman like me to be buying all them pretty clothes--but--" and she
sighed like a happy child--"it's nice to be vain for once in your
life. It's just _nice_."

"Of course it is. All women love pretty clothes."

"Yes; it must be something born inside of us, 'cause I don't know as
I've ever had such a feelin' even when readin' the Bible as I did
when I tried on them hats, and bought them dresses, and knowed they
was _mine_." She was quiet for a moment. "I wonder if Eve ever had
the chance to be extravagant in fig leaves?"

"Well, we've bought them, and Father's hair will certainly turn
gray, but he can't say a word. Now we'll go to lunch. It's late; you
must be hungry. I'm glad we found a coat that fitted you--that velvet
is so soft and pretty. And your hat--why, Miss Doane, you won't know
yourself!"

"Is it pretty? It ought to be. It's got ten dollars of hat and
thirty dollars of style; but I don't care. I'm so happy that I'm
afraid I'll cry and spoil it all."

But she did not cry and she enjoyed the luncheon at the big hotel,
and as she ate she stole shy glances in the mirror opposite that
reflected a transformed Drusilla from the frightened little woman who
had gone tremblingly down the steps of the Doane home the day before.