THE DRESSING UP OF MEG
THE dressing up of Meg was a business entirely after Sheila's heart.
She brought out all her pretty gowns and held them up in front of her
protégé to try their effect. It was not difficult to suit her. As dress
after dress was tried on, Sheila exclaimed in astonishment at the
extraordinary difference they made in the girl's appearance. As far as
looks went she was satisfactory.
She was delighted too at the admiration which her pretty clothes
excited in her protégé.
"My!" Meg would cry. "Ain't that just lovely!"
The tone of voice and the words spoken were so incongruous with the
dress and whole appearance of the speaker that it was all that Sheila
could do to keep her countenance. Her great aim however at present,
was to make her feel at home in her new surroundings, and to avoid
frightening her, so that expressions which were decidedly startling
were allowed to pass without comment; and with the optimism of youth
Sheila felt sure that she could in time cure Meg of all her dreadful
colloquialism if she devoted herself to her with this aim in view.
Meg was quite unconscious of the extraordinary effect her language,
combined with pretty clothes, produced on her companion. She was
beginning to feel at home with her, and talked as naturally as she
would have talked with Jem. It never struck her that different clothing
to that which she had been used, would necessitate a change of
vocabulary on her part, meaning great difficulty and an immense amount
of perseverance. Had she at this time realized what it would entail she
would have escaped at her first opportunity from Friars Court. Her love
of absolute freedom would have impelled this action on her part.
It was altogether an easier matter to improve her appearance than
her voice and grammar. For the girl had a charming figure, upright
and lithesome. Her movements were free and graceful. She swept about
in Sheila's long evening dresses as they were tried on one after
the other, laughing merrily as she caught sight of herself in the
pier-glass. When she laughed, her companion thought her lovely; her
expression was full of childish glee.
Few people could boast moreover of such glorious hair, and Elsie wound
it round her head in such a becoming way that the effect astonished its
possessor.
When the dress for the evening had been decided upon and the maid had
gone, Meg stood for some time surveying herself before the glass.
She could hardly believe that the girl who looked her in the eyes
was herself. She had never seen herself before, and what she saw now
astonished her. She had no idea that she was so beautiful. She placed
herself in different attitudes to see the effect, clasping her hands
behind her back, and over her head, then danced before her silent
audience. The excited colour spread over her face.
Sheila, who had left the room for a few minutes, returned to find her
laughing joyfully at her reflection in the glass.
"Ain't I lovely," she cried. "If only Jem would come along and see me
dressed up fine like this he'd be fairly stemm'd." Meg looked down
admiringly at the long clinging soft black skirt.
Sheila laughed.
"Who is Jem?" she asked, thinking to herself that the girl looked
almost regal.
"Jem's my pal. You'll see him soon I guess as he'll be looking for me
till he finds me, that's to say when Steve dies; he won't think of
leaving Steve till he dies, poor little chap."
This news took Sheila's breath away for a moment, she felt alarmed.
"But he didn't know, did he, where you were going when you left?" she
asked.
"Oh yes, he did. He knew right enough I was going to London, though of
course he didn't know no more than I did what places I should have to
pass through."
"I doubt if he'll ever find you, Meg," said Sheila, devoutly hoping
that this young man would not turn up.
"He'll come right enough," answered the girl with decision. "When Jem
says a thing he does it, and he's ever so fond of me. He'll find his
way somehow I reckon."
"Anyhow, he would scarcely recognise you now," said Sheila laughing.
Meg's face fell, it was a new idea.
"I think I'd best go back to my old clothes," she said, looking at the
same time regretfully at her lovely dress.
"You can't," said her companion gleefully, "they're burnt."
Meg, who was surveying herself somewhat regretfully in the long glass,
turned round suddenly upon her companion.
"Burnt!" she exclaimed fiercely. "How dare you burn my clothes? You
shouldn't ought to have done it!"
The girl felt she had been trapped. Her ships had been burnt behind
her. How could she ever return to her old life now, however much she
wished to! Besides which she felt her clothes to be a part of her old
familiar life—almost her friends—and the only property she possessed in
the world, the very sight of the faded green skirt would have reminded
her of the heather and bracken and the blue eyes of Jem. Her eyes
filled with tears, but they were tears of rage.
As for Sheila she was undergoing a new experience. She had not been
reproved since she was a child, her uncle having spoilt her hopelessly;
so to be called to book by this pretty beggar maid, diverted her
immensely, and would have done so more had it not been for the angry
flash of the brown eyes confronting her.
"You surely can't mind losing your old clothes, Meg, as you have such
lovely ones in their place. I never thought you would want to see them
again. I thought they would remind you of those sad times you have told
me about."
"But they were mine," said the girl with a passionate ring in her
voice. "You had no right to put 'em away without asking me. They didn't
belong to you."
"I'm so sorry," said Sheila really distressed. "I wish I hadn't done
it. I never thought you'd mind."
Meg made no answer, but the fact that her old clothes had been
consigned to the flames took away the pleasure for a time of the new
ones. However it was not long before she recovered, and that evening
she spent trying all the easy chairs and sofas in the drawing-room, and
looking curiously at the various bits of china and pictures.
It all seemed wonderful to her. She sometimes almost wondered if she
were still living in the same world, or if it was the beginning of
heaven. Sheila was so kind and interested in her that she could not but
be happy.
That night after saying good-night to Meg, Sheila went into Miss
Gregson's room to see her before going to bed.
"She's quite fascinating," pronounced the girl, "and how lovely she
looked in my black dress. And you can't think what a character she is.
She was tolerably quiet while you were in the room, but you should just
hear her when we are alone. She is the quaintest creature."
"She is certainly very pretty," said Miss Gregson, but she was so
certain that this fancy of Sheila's would not last, that her tone of
voice was not enthusiastic enough for her companion.
"I don't believe you approve of my plan of keeping her," said Sheila.
"I think it a doubtful experiment."
"But then every experiment is more or less doubtful, and if one was
always hesitating nothing would be done. However, I'm quite certain it
will succeed. If I have patience, Meg will soon get out of her tricks
of speech. I mean to devote myself to her."
"I don't quite understand why you object to having her properly trained
under Elsie. That would be doing something that might turn out to be a
real advantage to the girl."
"But that would be so ordinary. It's just what everyone else might do.
I can't move in a groove, I never could. Besides I love experimenting."
"But one must consider the good of the subject upon which one
experiments," said Miss Gregson.
"That's just what I am doing. What could be better for Meg than to be
treated as my sister? When once she learns to speak properly I mean to
take her about with me, and she shall share all my pleasures with me.
What could be happier?"
Miss Gregson was silent a moment then she said—
"I like to think that our Heavenly Father places us in just the
position of life in which we can best serve Him, and make the best of
our lives. I very much doubt if it is a happy thing for a girl to be
taken out of her station."
"It depends I should say on who gives her the lift up, and if she is
adaptable to circumstances."
"Not altogether. I wonder if it will really end in her happiness.
That girl is at present perfectly free and fearless. She has a strong
personality, and is just at the age when she is most easily influenced.
If she adapts herself too readily to the new world in which you are
about to place her, there is a chance of her being conformed to it, and
of it robbing her of her sincerity and unaffectedness."
"Oh, you dear old pessimist! I won't wait to hear any more of your
doleful prophecies," said Sheila laughing. "I only hope Peter will be
more hopeful. Anyhow, whatever anybody says I am bent on trying to turn
that pretty little tramp into a lovely lady. And I shall do it!" And
with a nod of determination Sheila left the room.