Meanwhile Mr Foggo continued to pay his usual visit every night, and Miss Willsie, somewhat curious and full of disapprovals, “looked in” through the day. Miss Willsie, who in secret knew _Hope Hazlewood_ nearly by heart, disapproved of everything. If there was one thing she did not like, it was young people setting up their opinion, and especially writing books; and if there was one thing she could not bear, it was to see folk in a middling way of life aiming to be like their betters. Miss Willsie “could not put up with” Mrs Edgerley’s presumption in sending the girls home in her carriage; she thought it was just as much as taunting decent folk because they had no carriage of their own. Altogether the mistress of Killiecrankie was out of temper, and would not be pleased--nothing satisfied her; and she groaned in spirit over the vanity of her young _protégés_. “Silly things!” said Miss Willsie, as she came in on the eventful morning of Thursday itself, that golden day; “do you really think there’s satisfaction in such vanities? Do you think any person finds happiness in the pleasures of this world?” “Oh, Miss Willsie! if they were not very pleasant, why should people be so frightened for them?” cried Marian, who was carefully trimming, with some of her mother’s lace, the aforesaid white dress. “And then we are not trying to _find_ happiness,” said Agnes, looking up from her similar occupation with a radiant face, and a momentary perception of the philosophy of the matter. After all, that made a wonderful difference. Miss Willsie was far too Scotch to remain unimpressed by the logical distinction. “Well, that’s true,” acknowledged Miss Willsie; “but you’re no to think I approve of such a way of spending your happiness, though ye have got it, ye young prodigals. If there is one thing I cannot endure, it’s countenancing the like of you in your nonsense and extravagance; but I’m no for doing things by halves either--Here!” Saying which, Miss Willsie laid a parcel upon the table and disappeared instantly, opening the door for herself, and closing it after her with the briskest energy. There was not much time lost in examining the parcel; and within it, in a double wrapper, lay two little pairs of satin shoes, the whitest, daintiest, prettiest in the world. Cinderella’s glass slippers! But Cinderella in the story was not half so much disturbed as these two girls. It seemed just the last proof wanting of the interest all the world took in this momentous and eventful evening. Miss Willsie, the general critic and censor, who approved of nothing! If it had not been for a little proper pride in the presence of Susan, who just then entered the parlour, Marian and Agnes would have been disposed for half a minute to celebrate this pleasure, in true feminine fashion, by a very little “cry.”