ying her eyes out last night and said
you were the light of the house with your happy, pretty face, and mother
said you're much too attractive to go about alone, and that's partly
why Pater's going with you to Hanover, silly.... You're not plain," she
gasped.

Miriam's amazement silenced her. She stood back from the mirror. She
could not look into it until Harriett had gone. The phrases she had just
heard rang in her head without meaning. But she knew she would remember
all of them. She went on doing her hair with downcast eyes. She had seen
Harriett vividly, and had longed to crush her in her arms and kiss her
little round cheeks and the snub of her nose. Then she wanted her to be
gone.

Presently Harriett took up a brooch and skated down the room,
"Ta-ra-ra-la-eee-tee!" she carolled, "don't be long," and disappeared.

"I'm pretty," murmured Miriam, planting herself in front of the
dressing-table. "I'm pretty--they like me--they _like_ me. Why didn't I
know?" She did not look into the mirror. "They all like me, _me_."

The sound of the breakfast-bell came clanging up through the house. She
hurried to her side of the curtained recess. Hanging there were her old
red stockinette jersey and her blue skirt... never again... just once
more... she could change afterwards. Her brown, heavy best dress with
puffed and gauged sleeves and thick gauged and gathered boned bodice was
in her hand. She hung it once more on its peg and quickly put on her old
things. The jersey was shiny with wear. "You darling old things," she
muttered as her arms slipped down the sleeves.

The door of the next room opened quietly and she heard Sarah and Eve go
decorously downstairs. She waited until their footsteps had died away
and then went very slowly down the first flight, fastening her belt. She
stopped at the landing window, tucking the frayed end of the petersham
under the frame of the buckle... they were all downstairs, liking her.
She could not face them. She was too excited and too shy. ... She had
never once thought of their "feeling" her going away... saying goodbye
to each one... all minding and sorry--even the servants. She glanced
fearfully out into the garden, seeing nothing. Someone called up from
the breakfast-room doorway, "Mim--my!" How surprised Mr. Bart had been
when he discovered that they themselves never knew whose voice it was
of all four of them unless you saw the person, "but yours is really
richer"... it was cheek to s