Father was really quite interested about my wardrobe. He asked me two
or three questions during the few days which ensued between Wednesday
and Saturday, and in particular said what good weight the brown skirt
was, and what an age it would last me.
"But it's just a wee bit too long for me," I could not help remarking.
He raised his brows very high when I said this, and pushed his glasses
up on his forehead. Then he said after a pause, "There's no pleasing
some people. Didn't you tell me that you had outgrown your clothes, and
wasn't I once and for all going to put a stop to that sort of thing? Do
you suppose that a man who is saving his money to send his sons to
Oxford or Cambridge can afford to buy dresses often? That skirt leaves
room for growth, and as it thins off with age it will be less heavy.
It's exactly the sort you ought to have, Dumps, and I won't hear a word
against it."
"Of course not, father. It was very kind of you to buy it for me."
"Perhaps you'd best travel in it," he said.
But to this I objected, on the score that it might get injured in the
train.
"Very true," he remarked. "But, all the same, I should like Miss
Donnithorne to see you looking nice. Well, you can put it on when you
get there. Be sure you do that. Go straight up to your room and put on
your brown skirt and your red blouse, and go down to her looking as my
daughter ought to look."
"Yes, father," I said meekly.
The joyful day arrived. Father could not take me to the station
himself; but Hannah and I went there in a cab. Hannah was terribly
cross. She said she knew I'd come home "that spoilt as would be past
bearing."
"You're going to that fat, vulgar body," she said. "Oh, don't you talk
to me about it's being genteel to put on flesh, for I know better. But,
anyhow, you'll be a good riddance while you are away, Dumps. I'll have
time to give the parlour a rare good turning out."
"Oh Hannah," I said, nestling up a little closer to her in the cab,
"aren't you ever a little bit sorry that I'm going away?"
"Well, to be sure, child," she said, her eyes twinkling, "I've no fault
to find with you. You can't help your looks, and you can't help your
aggrawating manners, and you can't help your perverse ways of going on.
But there, there! you're as you're made, and I've no fault to find with
you."
This was a great deal from Hannah, and I was obliged to be satisfied
with it.
"I don't think I shall ever grow up vain," I thought, "and I suppose I
ought to be satisfied."
By-and-by I was cosily travelling first-class, for father was peremptory
on this point, down to Chelmsford. I had left smoky London behind me,
and was in the country. It was very cold in the country; snow was over
everything, and the whole place looked so white and so sweet, and I just
pined for a breath of the fresh country air. So I flung open the window
of the carriage nearest to me and poked out my head.
A poke of another sort was presently administered somewhere in my back,
and turning, I saw a most irate old gentleman who had been sitting at
the other end of the carriage.
"I'll thank you, young person," he said, "to shut that window without a
moment's delay. You must be mad to put your head out like that in such
bitter weather. I'm certain to be attacked by bronchitis with your
wilful and violent way of letting such extreme cold into the carriage."
I shut the window in a great hurry and sat down, very red in the face.
The old gentleman did not take any further notice of me; he buried
himself behind his paper. After a minute or two I heard him sneeze, and
when he sneezed he gave me a very angry glance. Then he coughed, and
then he sneezed again; finally he buried himself once more in his paper.
By-and-by we got to Chelmsford. It was nice to see Miss Grace
Donnithorne standing on the platform. She was so round and so jolly and
good-natured-looking, and her eyes, which were like little black beads
in the middle of her face, quite shone with happiness.
"There you are, you poor Dumps!" she said. "Hop out, dear--hop out."