She stepped into the carriage first, and I followed. She gave orders. We stopped at a large shop, where we bought a quantity of things--or rather she bought them--underclothing of every sort and description, more stockings than I thought I could ever use in the whole course of my life, a lot more handkerchiefs, embroidered petticoats, dark petticoats; then gloves--walking gloves and evening gloves and afternoon gloves; and by-and-by we went into the region where pretty things were to be found. Such a sweetly becoming costume was got for me--dark-blue again, but now trimmed richly with velvet which was embroidered in a strange and mystical sort of pattern. In my heart of hearts I adored it, but all the time I stood gloomy and silent and without a smile on my face. "Come," said Mrs Grant when the purchases were nearly finished, "you must, my dear child, put on a slightly more agreeable face, for we are going to the millinery department, and I cannot choose a hat which will suit you while you look like that." I tried to smile, but instead I burst into a sort of hysterical laughter. "I wish you wouldn't," I said. She took my hand and squeezed it. "You wish I wouldn't? But I wish I could do a thousand times more for you. Come, darling, come." The word "darling," after all the calm insistence of having her own way all the morning, broke on my heart with a feverish desire to respond to it, but I would not. No, I would not be conquered. Oh, how particular my step-mother was about that hat! As if it mattered after all. It was the quietest and most expensive hat I had ever seen. As to the feathers, she took them to the light, examined them and pulled them about, and saw that they were exactly the right shade, until I scarcely knew how to contain myself. I could not help murmuring under my breath, "I shall become a sort of Augusta if this goes on. I shall loathe clothes if this continues." Finally a dark-blue hat was chosen to suit the dark-blue costume, and then a grey hat with a long grey feather was also bought for best occasions; and afterwards I was supplied with a perfectly fascinating set of chinchilla furs, chinchilla for my neck and a darling little muff to match. "You shall wear this hat with these chinchillas," said my step-mother; "and I will get you a very good brown fur for everyday wear--fox. You must wear your chinchillas when you want to be extra smart." At last all the list of things that Mrs Grant considered necessary for a young lady's entrance into the fashionable Parisian school were obtained. "We have done a good morning's work," she said, and she desired the coachman to take us home. "At least I shall have the afternoon to myself," I thought.