outh, and gazing at the figures in the canopy over the bed.
''Brush my hair hard,'' she said to me, as she stood for me to dress her. ''Brush it hard and make it shine. Oh, how horrid and white my cheek is! Pinch it, Sue.'' She put my fingers to her face, and pressed
them ''Pinch my cheek, don''t mind if you bruise it. I''d rather a blue cheek than a horrid white one!''
Her eyes were dark, perhaps from the sleeping-drops. Her brow was creased. It troubled me to hear her talk of bruises. I said,
''Stand still, or I shan''t be able to dress you at all.—That''s better. Now, which gown will you have?''
The grey?''
''The grey''s too soft on the eye. Let''s say, the blue . . .''
The blue brought out the fairness of her hair. She stood before the glass and watched as I buttoned it tight. Her face grew smoother, the higher I went. Then she looked at me. She looked at my brown stuff dress. She said,
''Your dress is rather plain, Sue—isn''t it? I think you ought to change it.''
I said, ''Change it? This is all I have.''
''All you have? Good gracious. I am weary of it already. What were you used to wearing for Lady Alice, who was so nice? Did she never pass any of her own dresses on to you?''
I felt—and I think I was right in feeling it—that Gentleman had let me down a bit here, sending me off to Briar with just the one good gown. I said,