Pamela slipped out of the room after the girls, and was witness on the landing of a small fraternal scene which confirmed her previous opinion of the lovely Jane. This aggrieved maiden first nearly fell over the bandboxes, and then was seized by such a convulsion of rage and jealousy at sight of them, that, shaking herself free of Sarah’s encircling arm, she slapped and pinched her sister, and then, at Pamela’s horrified interference, dashed up the staircase to her own chamber. “’Pon my word,” thought the milliner, “Mr. W. may have had the escape of his life! A doll lined with a vixen! ’Tis the most dismal combination. Don’t cry, Miss,” she went on aloud, as Sarah sniffed into her useful pocket handkerchief, “don’t cry, there’s a dear young lady! Let me come in your room with you, and see what I’ve got in these boxes. You shall look nice to-night, or my name’s not Pamela Pounce.” Now Sarah’s chamber happened to be a narrow slit at the back of her mother’s apartment, for of course Beauty had to be well lodged, no matter how pokily plain Miss Sarah might fare. Nipping a bunch of bandboxes dexterously in each hand, Pamela bundled after the astonished Cinderella into her dingy little cell. “As for the price, Miss, bless you,” she whispered breathlessly, with her back against the door. “You’ll pay me when you’re married.” Then she smacked her lips as if the dish of her choice were spread before her. “I don’t know when I’ve took to anyone as I’ve took to you. La! We must have candles though, your window giving on a shaft as I see, and being, so to speak, worse than none. But I’d rather dress a lady by candlelight, any day in the year. And what was you thinking of wearing, Miss?” “O dear, I’m sure I don’t know!” cried Sarah. “My muslins are dreadful washed out, and Mamma said I must do with her mauve Tabby made over, for she couldn’t afford to dress two----” Here there came a knock at the door, and Meeking, the drab elderly maid, entered, carrying a white silk brocade gown, powdered over with little rosebuds. “My Lady says you’re to wear this, Miss Sally, and I’m mortal glad,” added the woman, dropping her voice and looking, as if for support, at the milliner, “that you should come to your rights once in a while! Too bad the way this pore young lady’s put upon, Miss. There! I’ve said it now, and I’m glad of it. Her Ladyship’s just given me notice. I wish I could dress you, Miss Sally, I do indeed, but I’ve got to go back to your Mamma this instant minute.” “Don’t you put yourself out, Ma’am,” cried Miss Pounce, sweetly. “I’ll help your young lady with all the pleasure in life! I was just about to show her the heads I brought on approval.” “Ah!” said the Abigail darkly, as she withdrew, “there’s heads enough in this house to-night, and that’s the truth!” “I hardly like, though,” exclaimed Sarah, “to wear poor Jenny’s clothes.” “Why, you’re a sweet creature!” The milliner shook out the glistening folds. “’Twill suit you, Miss----”