"Yes, that will be best, I suppose," said Isabel, who had no experience of want of money, and who had but to ask and have whatever she desired. Her own dress had been ordered from a fashionable dressmaker, and a few days afterwards, Mabel went with her to have it tried on. While this was being done, the thought suddenly crossed her mind that her cousin could not do better than have one made for herself just like it, and she at once suggested it to her. "It will save your mamma a great deal of trouble," said Isabel, "and I should so like you to have a dress like mine." Mabel looked dubious. She did not like to confess that she was afraid of the expense, and so murmured something about not feeling sure that it would suit her. "Oh, yes, miss, it would suit you even better than your cousin," interposed the dressmaker, "for you have more colour. I am sure you could not do better than have a dress like this. Let me take your pattern at once," she added as she released Isabel from the pins and pleatings. "You really ought to order it at once, Mabel, or there will not be time to get it made," whispered Isabel, coming to her side. Thus persuaded she could not do otherwise than yield, she thought. Besides, she must have a new dress, and this of Isabel's was very pretty, and would certainly suit her. And as her cousin had bought a brown dress to match her dowdy ones, why should they not have these pretty ones alike? So the order was given and Mabel's pattern taken, without any questions being asked as to what the probable cost would be. She had no time to think much about this just now, for all her attention was occupied by the sonata she was to play. Every minute that could be spared from her other lessons was given to her music, for she was determined to surprise and vex her aunt and cousin by her proficiency. Whether it was true or not, she certainly believed that this piece of music had been selected for her on purpose that she might fail—that after the first few bars had been played, Julia might come and whisper, "That will do—" and sit down herself and rattle off some brilliant showy piece. And she was determined to defeat her, and wring a triumph out of this very disappointment. I need scarcely say she was anything but happy under the influence of such feelings. Captious and querulous, poor Isabel scarcely knew what to do or say for fear of offending her cousin. And a casual remark she made about going to see her old nurse and her lodger brought a storm of reproaches down upon her head. "But why should you feel so angry, Mabel?" expostulated her cousin. "I thought she was a nice old lady; and she seemed to understand so much about what that parable meant. Don't you like old ladies to teach you?" she added.