very good-looking gentleman, with a fine face and a
fine figure, beautiful eyes and mouth, very attractive hands, and most
fascinating manners. It will be a pity if you don't grow up
nice-looking."

I grew crimson, partly with mortification and partly with
astonishment. I had a strong natural desire to be pretty, but I felt
sure I had been taught somehow that it was much more meritorious not
to care about it. It certainly did not please me when (if I had
offended them) the maids said I should never be as pretty as Maud Mary
Ibbetson, my bosom friend; but when nurse took the good looking-glass
out of the nursery, and hung up the wavy one which used to be in her
room instead, to keep me from growing vain, I did not dispute her
statement that "the less little girls looked in the glass the better."
And when I went to see Maud Mary (who was the only child of rich
parents, and had a cheval-glass in her own bed-room), it was a just
satisfaction to me to feel that if she was prettier, and could see
herself full length, she was probably vainer than I.

It was very mortifying, therefore, to find that my godmother not only
thought me plain, but gave me no credit for not minding it. I grew
redder and redder, and my eyes filled with tears.

Lady Elizabeth was very nice in one way--she treated us with as much
courtesy and consideration as if we were grown up. People do not think
about being polite to children, but my godmother was very polite.

"My dear child," she said, holding out her hand, "I am very sorry if I
have hurt your feelings. I beg your pardon."

I put my hot and rather dirty little paw among her cool fingers and
diamond rings. I could not mutter to her face, but I said rather under
my sobs that "it seemed such a thing" to be blamed for not being
pretty.

"My dear Selina, I never said anything about your being pretty. I said
I should be sorry if you did not grow up nice-looking, which is quite
another thing. It will depend on yourself whether you are nice-looking
or not."

I began to feel comforted, but I bridled my chin in an aggrieved
manner, which I know I had caught from Mrs. Marsden, the charwoman,
when she took tea in the nursery and told long tales to nurse; and I
said I "was sure it wasn't for want of speaking to" nurse that my hair
did not wave like Maud Mary's, but that when I asked her to crimp it,
she only said, "Handsome is that handsome does, and that ought to be
enough for you, Miss Selina, witho