When the dress for the evening had been decided upon and the maid had gone, Meg stood for some time surveying herself before the glass. She could hardly believe that the girl who looked her in the eyes was herself. She had never seen herself before, and what she saw now astonished her. She had no idea that she was so beautiful. She placed herself in different attitudes to see the effect, clasping her hands behind her back, and over her head, then danced before her silent audience. The excited colour spread over her face. Sheila, who had left the room for a few minutes, returned to find her laughing joyfully at her reflection in the glass. "Ain't I lovely," she cried. "If only Jem would come along and see me dressed up fine like this he'd be fairly stemm'd." Meg looked down admiringly at the long clinging soft black skirt. Sheila laughed. "Who is Jem?" she asked, thinking to herself that the girl looked almost regal. "Jem's my pal. You'll see him soon I guess as he'll be looking for me till he finds me, that's to say when Steve dies; he won't think of leaving Steve till he dies, poor little chap." This news took Sheila's breath away for a moment, she felt alarmed. "But he didn't know, did he, where you were going when you left?" she asked. "Oh yes, he did. He knew right enough I was going to London, though of course he didn't know no more than I did what places I should have to pass through." "I doubt if he'll ever find you, Meg," said Sheila, devoutly hoping that this young man would not turn up. "He'll come right enough," answered the girl with decision. "When Jem says a thing he does it, and he's ever so fond of me. He'll find his way somehow I reckon." "Anyhow, he would scarcely recognise you now," said Sheila laughing. Meg's face fell, it was a new idea. "I think I'd best go back to my old clothes," she said, looking at the same time regretfully at her lovely dress. "You can't," said her companion gleefully, "they're burnt." Meg, who was surveying herself somewhat regretfully in the long glass, turned round suddenly upon her companion. "Burnt!" she exclaimed fiercely. "How dare you burn my clothes? You shouldn't ought to have done it!" The girl felt she had been trapped. Her ships had been burnt behind her. How could she ever return to her old life now, however much she wished to! Besides which she felt her clothes to be a part of her old familiar life—almost her friends—and the only property she possessed in the world, the very sight of the faded green skirt would have reminded her of the heather and bracken and the blue eyes of Jem. Her eyes filled with tears, but they were tears of rage. As for Sheila she was undergoing a new experience. She had not been reproved since she was a child, her uncle having spoilt her hopelessly; so to be called to book by this pretty beggar maid, diverted her immensely, and would have done so more had it not been for the angry flash of the brown eyes confronting her.