"Whatsoever thy hands findeth to do, do it with thy might."
On the following Monday morning, Nan said in rather a curious voice to Phillis,--
"If no customers call to-day, our work-room will be empty. I wonder what we shall do with ourselves?"
To which Phillis replied, without a moment's hesitation,--
"We will go down and bathe, and Dulce and I will have a swimming-match; and after that we will sit on the beach and quiz the people. Most likely there will be a troupe of colored minstrels on the Parade, and that will be fun."
"Oh, I hope no one will come!" observed Dulce, overjoyed at the idea of a holiday; but, seeing Nan's face was full of rebuke at this outburst of frivolity, she said no more.
It was decided at last that they should wait for an hour to see if any orders arrived, and after that they would consider themselves at liberty to amuse themselves for the remainder of the day. But, alas for Dulce's hopes! long before the appointed hour had expired, the gate-bell rang, and Miss Drummond made her appearance with a large paper parcel, which she deposited on the table with a radiant face.
The story was soon told. Her silk dress was such a success, and dear Archie was so charmed with it--here Mattie, with a blush, deposited a neatly-sealed little packet in Nan's hand--that he had actually proposed that she should have another gown made after the same pattern for every-day wear. And he had taken her himself directly after breakfast down to Mordant's, and had chosen her this dress. He had never done such a thing before, even for Grace: so no wonder Mattie was in the seventh heaven of delight.
"It is very pretty," observed Nan, critically: "your brother has good taste." Which speech was of course retailed to Archie.
Mattie had only just left the cottage, when another customer appeared in the person of Miss Middleton.
Nan, who had just begun her cutting-out, met her with a pleased glance of recognition, and then, remembering her errand, bowed rather gravely. But Miss Middleton, after a moment's hesitation, held out her hand.
She had not been able to make up her mind about these girls. Her father's shocked sense of decorum, and her own old-fashioned gentlewoman's idea, had raised certain difficulties in her mind, which she had found it hard to overcome. "Recollect, Elizabeth, I will not have those girls brought here," the colonel had said to her that very morning. "They may be all very well in their way, but I have changed my opinion of them. There's poor Drummond: now mark my words, there will be trouble by and by in that quarter." For Colonel Middleton had groaned in spirit ever since the morning he had seen the young vicar walking with Phillis down the Braidwood Road, when she was carrying Mrs. Trimmings's dress. Elizabeth answered this gentle protest by one of her gentle smiles. "Very well, dear father: I will ask no one to Brooklyn against your wish, you may be sure of that; but I suppose they may make my new dress? Mattie's has been such a success; they certainly understand their business."