of her improved appearance, yet a trifle uneasy at the thought of how fast her money was melting away.
Their next visit was to a fashionable shoe store. Mrs. Dinsmore had the children and herself fitted with several pairs each, and by her advice, Mildred, too, bought slippers for the house, and heavy walking shoes.
"You must have, besides, a pair of gaiters to match each handsome dress you buy," Mrs. Dinsmore said to her as they re-entered the carriage.
That announcement filled Mildred with dismay. At this rate her purse would be emptied before the demands upon it were nearly satisfied. What was she to do? She had been eager to select her dresses, but now was thankful for the respite afforded her by Mrs. Dinsmore's declaration that she was too much fatigued for any more shopping, and that therefore they would return to their hotel.
"I'm going to lie down till it is time to dress for dinner, and would advise you to do the same," she said to Mildred as they re-entered their parlor, and our heroine retreated at once to her own room, glad of the opportunity to think over her perplexity in solitude, and ask guidance and help of her best Friend, who, as she rejoiced in knowing, was abundantly able and willing to help her in every time of need.
She cast her burden on Him, then threw herself on the bed, and being very weary with her long journey, soon fell asleep.
Two hours later she was roused by a knock at her door. She sprang up and opened it to find a porter there with an armful of brown paper parcels and a note for her.
"Is there not some mistake?" she asked in surprise.
"No, Miss: No. 95, and here's the name on the note and the bundles."
"Why yes, it is my name, sure enough!" she exclaimed. "Well, you may bring them in."
The man laid the packages down and departed, while Mildred, only waiting to close the door after him, tore open the note.
"My dear niece," so it ran, "you must please excuse the liberty I have taken in selecting your dresses for you. Your Aunt Wealthy put some money into my hands to be laid out for you. The letter containing her remittance and also one from Roselands which hurries us home, came to hand a few minutes after you and Mrs. Dinsmore had left the hotel. Miss Worth arrived while I was in the act of reading them, and with her assistance I ventured to do your shopping for you. The contents of the parcels sent with this are the result.
"Hoping they may suit your taste, I am your affectionate uncle, A. D."
For some minutes after the note had been hastily read and laid aside, Mildred's fingers were very busy with twine and wrapping paper, bringing to light beautiful and costly things, while her cheeks burned with excitement and her eyes danced with delight, or filled with tears of mingled pleasure and pain.
She could not fail to rejoice in such wealth of lovely things, yet it hurt her pride of independence that she must take them as gifts; and that from one who was scarcely related to her, for well she knew that Mr. Dinsmore must have paid a large proportion of the price from his own purse. There were materials for three beautiful evening dresses, a sage colored merino, fine and soft, an all wool delaine—royal purple with an embroidered sprig; also three silks—a black, a dark brown, and a silver grey; each rich and heavy enough to almost stand alone, and there was a box of kid gloves; one or two pairs to match each dress, the rest white for evening wear. Nor had suitable trimmings for the dresses been forgotten: they were there in beautiful variety—ribbons, buttons, heavy silk fringes; nothing had been overlooked.
Mildred seemed to herself to be in a dream; she could hardly believe that such riches were really hers.
But there came a rap at the door and opening she found Mr. Dinsmore standing there.
"May I come in?" he asked with grave cheerfulness.
She stepped back silently, her heart too full for speech, and passing in he closed the door.
"My dear child, you will excuse me?" he began, but throwing her arms round his neck she burst into tears.
"O, uncle, you are so kind! but it is too much," she sobbed, hiding her face on his shoulder.
"Nonsense! the merest trifle!" he said, stroking her hair. "But if you don't like them—"
"Like them!" she cried. "They're just lovely! every one of them, but—"
"No, no! no buts," he said gayly; "if they suit your taste it's all right. The gaiters that Mrs. Dinsmore says are necessary to match the dresses, can be made nearer home and we'll have two days, Friday and Saturday for sight seeing. This is Thursday, and early Monday morning we leave for Roselands."
"But O, uncle, you shouldn't have spent so much money on me," began Mildred.
"I, child? your Aunt Wealthy you mean. Didn't you read my note?"
"Yes sir; and I know I must thank her for a part, but only a part of these beautiful things."
"Dear me, how very wise we are," he said jocosely and chucking her playfully under the chin; "yet perhaps not quite so wise as we think. Now if you want to do me a favor, just call to mind our talk in the cars the other day, and say no more about this.
"Mrs. Dinsmore and Miss Worth know nothing but that I had money of yours in my hands and have used it in doing your shopping for you; and it is decidedly my wish that they neither know nor suspect anything further. Will you oblige me by being quiet about it?"
"I would do anything I possibly could to oblige you, Uncle Dinsmore," she answered, looking into his eyes with hers full of grateful tears.
"Ah, that's my good girl," he said, "Now dry your eyes and we'll go down to dinner. It is to be served for the family in our own parlor, and is probably on the table now."
Dinner was on the table, and as they entered the family were in the act of taking their places about it.
Miss Worth the governess was with them. She was an intelligent looking, but rather plain featured woman of perhaps thirty-five. Her manners were unobtrusive, she was very quiet and reserved, seemingly self-absorbed.
Mildred's first impressions were not too favorable. The thought in the girl's mind was, "she's a disagreeable old maid, and I'm sure I shall never like her."
Yet the face, though slightly sad and careworn when at rest, would by many have been preferred to Mrs. Dinsmore's in its faded beauty, and listless or fretful and annoyed expression.
The bright, fresh young faces of the children pleased Mildred better than either. There were six of them in all; Arthur, Walter, and Enna were all younger than the three little girls whose acquaintance she had made in the morning—the last named a mere baby. They were pretty children and not ill-behaved considering that they had been used to an almost unlimited amount of petting and indulgence.
"Miss Worth has been telling me about your dresses, Mildred," remarked Mrs. Dinsmore, "I hope you will like them; I should think from her description, they must be very handsome."
"They are, very," Mildred answered, with a vivid blush. "I don't think I could possibly have been better suited." And turning to Miss Worth, she thanked her warmly for the trouble she had taken in her behalf.
"It was no trouble, and you are heartily welcome, Miss Keith," returned the governess, a smile lighting up her features into positive comeliness.
Mr.
