“Would he laugh like that if I had jaggit him?” cried Lizzie. There was no contesting that proof; so I had to withdraw the ribbon out of their joint hands immediately, and put it at once to its proper use. This, however, was neither the first nor the last of Lizzie’s impromptus. Those great red fingers of hers, all knuckles and corners as they were, had that light rapid touch which distinguishes every true _artiste_. She devised and appropriated for the decoration of the baby and “the credit of the house,” with the utmost boldness. It was not safe to leave anything which she could adapt to his use in her way. The next trial I had was an invitation to dinner, which came for us shortly after. I set my face very much against it. Long ago, when Harry used to tell me about their parties, I made up my mind it never would do for us to begin going to them, however much we might be asked. To be sure Harry might go. I was always glad Harry should go; but how was I, who had got no trousseau, like other young wives, when I was married, but just had one cheap silk dress, bought off Aunt Connor’s ten pounds, which I made up myself, to go out to dinner? I stood out long and obstinately; but I had to give in at last, just as I had about the maid and the lodgings. Harry would not go by himself. He would not decline the invitation; he said, with a very glum face, that we had better accept, and leave it to the chapter of accidents to find an excuse at the time. He did not understand how necessary it was for me to keep at home. He had been able always to go where he wanted, and keep up with the rest, and it fretted him dreadfully now to feel the bondage that our narrow means put us in. You understand he did not object to be economical in a general way, nor even, indeed, grumbled, the dear good fellow, at giving up many of his old luxuries; and, at first, he seemed to be delighted with having no society but our own. But now, when he began to feel annoyed that his wife was not in the same position as the others, and when I plied him with all the old arguments--that we dare not begin such a life or the expense would ruin us, Harry became very restive indeed. Somehow it seemed to gall and humble him; the idea that _his_ wife could not go out for want of a dress! He could not put up with the thought; he jumped up from his chair as if something had stung him. “It is nonsense, Milly! folly; the merest shortsightedness; you don’t want half a dozen dresses to go to one dinner, and one dress can’t ruin us,” cried the unreasonable fellow. He would not understand me or listen to me. The notion wounded him quite to the heart. He looked so sulky and miserable that I could not bear to see it. I gave a great sigh, and gave in again. What could I do? “Well, Harry!” said I, “the foolishness is all on the other side, mind; but if I must give in I can’t help myself. I am only twenty, not twenty quite. I’ll go in white.”