Nan thought that the delight of this day never could be equalled by
anything life would bring, even at Beverley. To begin with, she and Miss
Phyllis started out in a luxurious carriage, which rolled them through
the town, past the butter shop, where Mrs. Rupert was standing in the
doorway, and deposited them at Mr. Lennon's large store, into which Nan
had never gone half so proudly before.
"You needn't appear to recognize any one, Nan," Miss Phyllis said, just
as they went in; and this dashed Nan's spirits just a little, for Mary
Seymour, one of the girls in the millinery-room, was a particular friend
of her aunt's; but then Miss Phyllis must know best, thought Nan, and
she would trust to luck's keeping Mary out of their way.
[Illustration: NAN PRESENTED TO MISS PHYLLIS FOR APPROVAL.]
Everybody was most polite to Miss Rolf; and when she said quietly, "I
want to see your handsomest dresses, ready made, for this little girl,"
Nan could hardly move to follow them upstairs. Out of a long case, dress
after dress was taken, held up, tried on, examined, and criticised by
Miss Phyllis, who sat languidly with her purse and her note-book,
evidently quite regardless of prices. It was well Nan's opinion was not
asked, for she would never have dared to choose what Miss Phyllis did
for her, a soft, seal brown wool costume, handsomely trimmed with silk,
and with a jacket to match. Miss Phyllis quietly desired Nan to put
these garments on; and when the saleswoman brought her back from the
dressing-room, her cousin could not repress a smile of satisfaction; and
really little Nan did credit to the quiet, lady-like costume. Miss
Phyllis saw a great many possibilities in the child's bright face and
pretty, slender figure.
The hat question came next, and here Nan's joy was somewhat dampened by
her fear that Mary Seymour would appear and claim acquaintance, and
thereby annoy Miss Phyllis; and sure enough, while she was trying on a
beautiful brown felt hat with a scarlet wing in it, Mary Seymour's voice
was heard cheerily from across the room.
"Why, Nan Rolf," she was saying, "is that you?"
And then Nan saw that her princess could look very different on
different occasions. She turned a cold little stare upon poor Mary, and
then said, in a tone that the shop-girl could hear perfectly, "Who is
that, Annice?"
Now it was the first time Nan had been called by her full name since her
father died, and between the start it gave her, and her little worry
about Mary Seymour, she hardly knew what to say, and stood looking
guiltily at her aunt's friend, with a rush of color in her face.
"It is Mary Seymour," she said, in a low voice.
Miss Phyllis waited a moment, the cold look still on her face; then she
took Nan by the hand, and went across the room to where Mary was busy
putting bonnet frames into a drawer.
"My little cousin is going away from Bromfield," she said, smiling, but
speaking in the very chilliest tone. "Perhaps you had better say
'good-by' to her now. She is going to live with her aunt at Beverley."
Poor Mary stared at the beautiful young lady, and said nothing for a
moment; then she stooped down and kissed Nan's little red check
heartily.
"Well, good-luck go with you, Nannie dear," she said; and half
understanding the impression Miss Rolf wished to make, she added,
looking up with a sad smile, "I suppose it won't do to expect you to
remember us any more, but Tommy'll miss you dreadfully."
"I'll write him a letter, Mary," Nan exclaimed, and seeing Miss Rolf's
look of surprise turn to something like disgust, she added, "Tommy is
Mary's lame little brother."
Miss Phyllis said nothing, but led the way back to the hats, and Nan,
unable to restrain herself further, whispered, "Miss Rolf, Cousin
Phyllis, why did you say I was going to _live_ at Beverley, when it is
only a visit?"
Miss Phyllis bit her lip angrily. "Never mind," was all she answered;
and then the brown felt hat was chosen, and the purchases went
on--gloves, and boots, and some dainty under-linen, and various small
belongings, until finally all that remained on Miss Phyllis's list was a
dressing-case and a trunk. Nan hardly knew which of the beautiful cases
to choose when her cousin left it to her; but finally a black leather
one with silver fastenings was selected, and Miss Phyllis directed the
shopman to have Nan's initials, A. B. R., put on it in little silver
letters.
By this time Nan, in her new brown suit, with her hands in three-button
kid gloves, had begun to think she never, never could do justice to the
day, to Philip and Marian, and yet a something had stolen over her of
half dread to going back to the shop. Already she dreaded her aunt's
voice; the noisy, greasy tea table, where only Philip made things
endurable for her; so that when, as they left the last store, loading
the carriage with parcels, and Miss Phyllis said, "I'm going to keep you
for the night, Nan," my little heroine felt more than ever grateful and
happy.