She was a
sallow, unhealthy, sweet-looking young woman, with a careworn look;
her dress was humble and very simple, consisting of some kind of
dark stuff gown, her neck being covered by a drab shawl or large
handkerchief, pinned down behind and at the sides in front.
The old woman gave her a hearty greeting, and made her sit down on
the chair she had just left, while she balanced herself on the board
seat, in order that Margaret might think it was quite her free and
independent choice to sit there.
"I cannot think what keeps Mary Barton. She's quite grand with her
late hours," said Alice, as Mary still delayed.
The truth was, Mary was dressing herself; yes, to come to poor old
Alice's--she thought it worth while to consider what gown she should
put on. It was not for Alice, however, you may be pretty sure; no,
they knew each other too well. But Mary liked making an impression,
and in this it must be owned she was pretty often gratified--and
there was this strange girl to consider just now. So she put on her
pretty new blue merino, made tight to her throat her little linen
collar and linen cuffs, and sallied forth to impress poor gentle
Margaret.
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