Laura was not called in; but when she thought the toilette must be nearly completed, went to Sally with the shawl which she had bought for her the day before. As she entered, Sally was folding the white one John had given her. “I have brought you a shawl,” said Laura, “which I want you to wear to-day; it is much handsomer than that you are folding. See, do you like it?” “Yes, Miss,” said Sally, “It is a very good one, I see,” and she began to re-fold the other; but Laura noticed the expression of disappointment with which she made the change, and taking up the plain shawl, said, “I do not know whether this does not suit your neat muslin dress better than mine. Did you buy it yourself, Sally?” “No, Miss, it was John’s present; but I will put on yours this morning, if you please, Miss, and I can wear John’s any day.” “No, no,” replied Laura, “you must put on John’s to-day. It matters but little to me when you wear mine, so long as it does you good service; but John will feel hurt if you cast his present aside on your wedding-day, because some one else has given you a shawl worth a few shillings more.” So Laura put the white shawl on the shoulders of Sally, who valued it more than the finest Cashmere in the world. As Sally went down stairs, she saw Fanny in tears on the landing. “I cannot think how it is,” answered she, in reply to Sally’s questioning, “but just on this day, when I thought to feel so happy, I am quite low. Miss Isabel has been so kind, she has dressed me, and quite flustered me with her attentions. See what nice things she has given me—this shawl—though for that matter, I’d rather have worn Thomas’s. Oh, how nice you look. Dear, so neat and becoming your station, and with John’s shawl, too, but then Miss Laura has made you no present.” “Yes, a good shawl, and a promise besides, but I will tell you about that another time. Let us go in now, they must be waiting for us.” Fanny felt so awkward in her fine clothes, that she could scarcely be prevailed on to encounter the gaze of the servants; but her good-natured cousin promising to explain that all her dress was given and chosen by her mistress, she at last went into the hall. Sally’s explanation was only heard by a few of the party, and as Fanny, in trying to conceal herself from the gaze of the astonished villagers, slunk behind old Mrs. Maythorn, she had the mortification of hearing her say to John, in the loud whisper peculiar to deaf people, “I am so glad, John, the neat one is yours; I should be quite frightened to see you take such a fine lady as Fanny to the altar; it makes me sorry for Thomas to see her begin so smart.”