But I am a servant of Christ--thought Rotha,--I _am_ a servant of Christ; I have been fighting to obey him this afternoon, and he has helped me. He will be with me, at any rate; and he can take care of my home and give it me, if he pleases. I needn't worry. I'll just let him take care. So with that the tears dried again, and Rotha entered Mrs. Mowbray's house more light-hearted than she had left it. She took off her wrappings, and sought Mrs. Mowbray out. "Madame," she said, looking at her feet, "I wanted you to know, that if I do not look nice as I should, it is not my fault." Mrs. Mowbray's eyes likewise went to the boots, and staid there. She had a little struggle with herself, not to speak what she felt. "What is the matter, Rotha?" "You see, Mrs. Mowbray. My boots would not go on over the thick stockings; so I have had to put on a pair of Antoinette's boots. So if I walk queerly, I want you to know I cannot help it." "You have more stockings than that pair, I suppose?" "Yes, ma'am; enough to last a good while." "Let me see them." Mrs. Mowbray examined the thick web. "Did you and your aunt have a fight over these?" "No, madame," said Rotha softly. "How was it then? You put them on quietly, and without remonstrance?" "Not exactly without remonstrance. But I didn't say much. I did not trust myself to say much. I knew I should say too much." "What made you fear that?" "I was so angry, ma'am." There came some tears again, dropping from Rotha's eyes. Mrs. Mowbray drew her down with a sudden movement, into her arms, and kissed her over and over again. "My dear," she said with a merry change of tone, "thick stockings are not the worst things in the world!" "No, ma'am." "You don't think so." "No, ma'am." "It will be a good check to your vanity, eh?" "Am I vain, Mrs. Mowbray?" "I don't know! most people are. Isn't it vanity, that makes you dislike to see your feet in shoes too large for them?" "Is it?" said Rotha. "But it is right to like to look nice, Mrs. Mowbray, is it not?" "It is right to like to see everything look nice, therefore of course oneself included." "Then that is not vanity." "No,--but vanity is near. It all depends on what you want to look nice for." Rotha looked an inquiry. "What _do_ you want to look nice for?" Mrs. Mowbray asked smiling. "I suppose," Rotha said slowly, "one likes to have people like one." "And you think the question of dress has to do with that?" "Yes, ma'am, I do." "Well, so do I. But then--_why_ do you want people to like you? What for?" "One cannot help it," said Rotha, her eyes opening a little at these self-evident questions. "Perhaps that is true. However, Rotha, there are two reasons for it and lying back of the wish; one is one's own pleasure or advantage simply. The other is--the honour and service of God." "How, ma'am? I do not see."