“Oh, dear, no! something cheaper, much cheaper,” Mrs. Morton gasped; and then the clerk knew that the faded, countrified-looking woman whom he had not at all considered as belonging to Miss Belknap, was the real customer, and his face changed its expression at once as he put back his high-priced silks with an injured air, and said: “You will find what you want farther down. We have nothing cheap here.” “I think you have,” Beatrice said to him. “Show me something at four dollars a yard.” “Certainly,” and again the clerk was all smiles and attention, and began to exhibit his goods, while Mrs. Morton whispered nervously, “But, Miss Belknap, you don’t understand. I’ve only forty dollars; I cannot afford it.” “I can,” Beatrice replied. “I have more money than I can spend. Let me give you the dress. I’ll take it as a great favor, and you can use the forty dollars for something else.” There were tears in Mrs. Morton’s eyes, and her face was very white, as she said: “No, no; that’s too much from you, a stranger. Theo would not like it.” “I’ll make it right with Theo. I’m not a stranger to him,” Bee answered, and so the silk was bought, and velvet to trim it with, and then they moved to another part of the store for something for the children, and met a whole regiment of ladies, Mrs. Gen. Stuckup with Mrs. Sniffe, who were delighted to see Bee, but looked askance at her companion, wondering if it was some poor relation of whom they had never heard, and commiserating Bee, who must feel so mortified. She was not mortified one whit now, though she had been at the start, but she despised herself thoroughly for it and was very attentive to her companion, and when Mrs. Sniffe, who was frightfully envious of her, and never failed to sting her if she could do it, asked her in an aside, with a roll of her eyes; “Who is that frump of a woman, and how came she fastened to you?” she answered, readily, “It is Mrs. Theodore Morton, wife of a returned missionary, whose name you must have seen if you ever read the papers. He is very highly esteemed by the board as a Christian and a gentleman. Some connection of Gov. Morton, of Massachusetts, I believe.” “Oh, yes, and you are doing missionary work in your own way, I see. It’s quite like you,” Mrs. Sniffe said, as she passed on to the laces and left Bee and Mrs. Morton to themselves. “That woman made fun of me and called me a frump,” Mrs. Morton falteringly said, with a quivering lip, but fire in her eye, as she looked after the retreating bundle of velvet, and silk, and ostrich feathers.