"Oh, of course I'll need something new," I said hurriedly; "I meant to ask your advice. Nothing very costly," I was reluctantly adding. But at that moment an inspiration came to lighten the gloom. The very thing! I'd use the money I'd saved for the microscope! I don't need one the least bit. So I was able to add with some philosophy:-- "I never did have a nice dress, and I'd like something pretty good this time. Why, I haven't nearly spent all my allowance," I cried with kindling enthusiasm, jumping up to pace the floor. "Tell me what I ought to have--just exactly what is most suitable. I don't know much about teas, but I'd like something--fine!" Aunt's face glowed with excitement. I think she saw in imagination fifty Helens dancing before he eyes in a kaleidoscopic assortment of dresses. "You're right. We'll get--oh, what shall we--what shall we get that'll be good enough for you?" she cried in a flutter. "Something simple of course, you're so young; but--I'll tell you: We'll go right to Mrs. Edgar!" Perhaps my own face burned, too. "Who's she? Some one on the Avenue?" "No; no one knows her, but--she's a marvel! It'd mean the world and all to her to please some one sure to be noticed, like you. She's a widow; has two children." So to Mrs. Edgar we went. Her eyes devoured me. She is a mite of a woman, young, white-faced, vivacious. "For a tea?" she asked. "A--a large one?" She spoke with forced calmness, but her hands had the artist's flutter, the enthusiast's eagerness to be doing. "I'll get samples," she went on; "there's not a minute to be lost; not--one--moment! I'll work all night rather than fail her. You will not wish"--she dismissed us abruptly--"to go with me to the shops?" "No; Miss Winship attracts too much attention." Alas, it's true! It has become an ordeal for me to venture into a shop. But what a blessed thing if my beauty should bring success and ease to this poor, struggling little widow--just by my wearing a dress she has made! Oh, she'll not be the only one! What if Kitty sometime wins fame by painting my picture, or Cadge by writing of me in her "Recollections?" Why shouldn't I inspire great poems and noble deeds and fine songs, like the famous beauties Miss Coleman told about? Yes, even more than they; there was not one of them all like me! Next evening when Aunt brought the samples upstairs, I was reading to the Judge in the library, and the others were listening as if stocks and bonds were more fascinating than romances. "Shall we pray for a second Joshua, arresting the sun, pending deliberation?" asked Uncle, displeased at the interruption. "Why, Bake, there's scarcely ten days, and how we'd feel if Nelly didn't look well!" cried Aunt Frank; and we all broke out laughing at the bare idea of my looking ill!