We were taken into a special department where all sorts of dresses were to be found. Now, I had my own ideas about clothes, which by-and-by would turn out quite right and satisfactory; but father's ideas were too primitive for anything. He disliked my interfering; he would not consult me. In the end I was furbished up with a long brown skirt which reached to my feet, and a dark-red blouse. My father bought these garments because he said they felt weighty and would keep out the cold. He desired them to be packed in brown-paper, paid for them, and gave me the parcel to carry. I felt a sense of absolute misery as I walked home with my hideous brown skirt and that dreadful red blouse. It was of a dark brick-red colour, and would not suit me; I knew that quite well. Still, father was highly pleased. "There, now," he said, "you won't go to Miss Grace Donnithorne's looking shabby. But, good gracious me! I'm five minutes late for class. Good-night, Dumps." "Won't you be in to dinner, father?" I asked. "I don't know--don't expect to. Now, not another word, or I shall have one of my furious headaches. Good-night, my dear." He banged the hall door, and I sat down with the brown-paper parcel in front of me. PART ONE, CHAPTER FIVE. THE PROFESSOR CHOOSES A DRESS. 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."