"Was that a dressmaking shop? I didn't see no dresses or fashion books." "No, she doesn't use fashion books. She makes her own fashions." "But--but--we jest got two new dresses." Miss Thornton laughed. "Oh, those are because we were in a hurry. Your dresses must be _made_. I told her she must hurry, too; and her things are beautiful, Miss Doane. You'll love yourself in them." Drusilla laughed softly. "I'm afraid I love myself already. It seems awful vain for an old woman like me to be buying all them pretty clothes--but--" and she sighed like a happy child--"it's nice to be vain for once in your life. It's just _nice_." "Of course it is. All women love pretty clothes." "Yes; it must be something born inside of us, 'cause I don't know as I've ever had such a feelin' even when readin' the Bible as I did when I tried on them hats, and bought them dresses, and knowed they was _mine_." She was quiet for a moment. "I wonder if Eve ever had the chance to be extravagant in fig leaves?" "Well, we've bought them, and Father's hair will certainly turn gray, but he can't say a word. Now we'll go to lunch. It's late; you must be hungry. I'm glad we found a coat that fitted you--that velvet is so soft and pretty. And your hat--why, Miss Doane, you won't know yourself!" "Is it pretty? It ought to be. It's got ten dollars of hat and thirty dollars of style; but I don't care. I'm so happy that I'm afraid I'll cry and spoil it all." But she did not cry and she enjoyed the luncheon at the big hotel, and as she ate she stole shy glances in the mirror opposite that reflected a transformed Drusilla from the frightened little woman who had gone tremblingly down the steps of the Doane home the day before. CHAPTER IV The next few days passed in a whirl of excitement for Drusilla. Dresses were bought for her to fit, and she went into town with Daphne on visits to the great dressmaker, who turned and studied Drusilla as gown after gown was fitted to her slim, yet still erect old figure. But finally they were all finished and great boxes came to the house. They were opened by Jeanne and their treasures spread upon the chairs and the bed to be admired and fingered lovingly by Drusilla, who took as much joy in her new clothes as any girl with her first trousseau. Except for the Bible and the life of John Calvin the contents of the little trunk were lost, so far as Drusilla was concerned. She became another being, as, clothed in soft-toned grays, her hair dressed by the hand of expert Jeanne, she gradually lost her feeling of loneliness, of being a person apart from her new life, and began to move with confidence amongst the treasured beauties of her new home.