“My dear Diana, you are a person of importance, we all know, in every way. You are so clever, very different from either Sophy or me: besides being a great lady, which, of course, opens every door. You must not grudge us, dear, a little interest that people take in us, because we are quite unimportant. It is her innocence, you know, that interests everybody--such a little white dove of a creature--and partly, too, because you have been such a friend to us, Diana. Everybody knows how kind you have been.” This silenced Diana, who had no mind to be commended for her kindness. She told Sophy where to find certain little boxes of gloves and trifling ornaments which she had bought in her passage through Paris, and so turned the course of the conversation. They were much delighted as a matter of course with their presents, and most eager to get a little information about the fashions, which Diana, who got her dresses in Paris, must be so well qualified to give. Then Diana’s maid was called, and the last gown was brought out, and examined with the greatest interest, Diana looking on from her sofa, always with a smile. They were not rich enough to have their dresses from M. Worth; but they were not at all disposed to wear things that were out of fashion. Why should they? and both the aunt and the niece were very serious in their conviction that it was a great advantage to be able to study Diana’s things, and see exactly what was the newest trimming, and how “a really good” gown was made. Mrs. Norton was very clever with her needle, and thought nothing of altering the trimming of a dress when she saw a newer fashion, or even of changing the cut of the garment itself (if the stuff would allow). “It is so much more easy when you have a pattern before your eyes instead of only the plate in a fashion-book,” she said. Diana’s maid, Morris, had her own opinion about this, and was indignant that her mistress’s things should be copied; but Diana threw open her wardrobe with that absurd liberality which shocked Morris as much as it shocked Mrs. Hunstanton. They did not understand how it was possible that she could be amused by the sight of those two heads so closely bent over her best dress, pinching the flutings with their inquisitive fingers, and examining with such precision the way in which it was looped up. “What a blessing that your new grey is not made up!” said the aunt to the niece; “I see exactly how this is done.” “You are so clever, auntie,” said Sophy, admiringly. “The front width forms a _tablier_,” said Mrs. Norton, “and the back is in a _pouff_. See! nothing could be more simple; and yet how handsome it looks! To be sure, yours is not such handsome silk as Diana’s; but with your light little figure----” “And, dear auntie, don’t you think your plum-colour could be altered to look like this, with a new flounce at the bottom? I must not be selfish, and let you think always of me,” said Sophy. How angry Mrs. Hunstanton