There was good reason. The Princess looked as if she had accidentally
stepped from a frame. She was always lovely and beautifully dressed,
but to-night she was prettier and finer than ever before. You could
fairly hear their teeth click as some of the most envious of those
girls caught sight of her, for she was wearing a new hat!--a black
velvet store hat, fitting closely over her crown, with a rim of twisted
velvet, a scarlet bird's wing, and a big silver buckle. Her dress was
of scarlet cloth cut in forms, and it fitted as if she had been melted
and poured into it. It was edged around the throat, wrists, and skirt
with narrow bands of fur, and she wore a loose, long, silk-lined coat
of the same material, and worst of all, furs--furs such as we had heard
wealthy and stylish city ladies were wearing. A golden brown cape that
reached to her elbows, with ends falling to the knees, finished in the
tails of some animal, and for her hands a muff as big as a nail keg.
Now, there was not a girl in that room, except the Princess, an she had
those clothes, who wouldn't have flirted like a peacock, almost
bursting with pride; but because the Princess had them, and they
didn't, they sat stolid and sullen, and cast glances at each other as
if they were saying: "The stuck-up thing!" "Thinks she's smart, don't
she?"
Many of them should have gone to meet her and made her welcome, for she
was not of our district and really their guest. Shelley did go, but I
noticed she didn't hurry.
The choosers began at once, and Laddie was the first person called for
our side, and the Princess for the visitors'. Every one in the room
was chosen on one side or the other; even my name was called, but I
only sat still and shook my head, for I very well knew that no one
except father would remember to pronounce easy ones for me, and besides
I was so bitterly disappointed I could scarcely have stood up. They
had put me in a seat near the fire; the spellers lined either wall, and
a goodly number that refused to spell occupied the middle seats. I
couldn't get a glimpse of Laddie or the home folks, or worst of all, of
my idolized Princess.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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