Part 6 (1/2)
me with yer 'air down like that.”
”Why, 'ow is it to be done?” said Connie. ”I take it that it's beautiful; I ha' done it more tidy than ever.”
”But I don't want it tidy. Now then, you set down yere close to the fire, so that you can toast yer toes, and I'll see to yer 'air.”
Connie was forced to obey; more and more was she wax in the hands of her new employer. Mrs. Warren quickly took the hair-pins out of Connie's thick plait. She let it fall down to her waist, and then she unplaited it and brushed out the s.h.i.+ning waves of lovely hair, and then said, with a smile of satisfaction:
”Now, I guess there won't be anybody prettier than you to walk abroad to-day.”
”But I can't,” said Connie--”I don't ever wear my 'air like that; it's only young lydies as does that.”
”Well, ain't you a lydy, and ain't I a lydy? You're going out with one, and yer'll wear yer 'air as I please.”
Connie s.h.i.+vered; but presently the little dark-blue cap was placed over the ma.s.ses of golden hair, the gray fur was fastened round the slender throat, and Connie marched out with Mrs. Warren.
Mrs. Warren's own dress was in all respects the reverse of her pretty young companion's. It consisted of a very voluminous silk cloak, which was lined with fur, and which gave the already stout woman a most portly appearance. On her head she wore a bonnet covered with artificial flowers, and she enveloped her hands in an enormous m.u.f.f.
”Now, off we go,” said Mrs. Warren. ”You'll enjoy yerself, my purty.”
It is quite true that Connie did--at least, at first. This was the time of day when, with the exception of Sundays, she was always buried from view in the ugly warehouse. She was unaccustomed to the morning suns.h.i.+ne, and she was certainly unaccustomed to the handsome streets where Mrs. Warren conducted her.
They walked on, and soon found themselves in crowded thoroughfares. At last they stopped before the doors of a great shop, into which crowds of people were going.
”Oh, what a pretty girl!” said Connie to her companion.
A young girl, very like Connie herself--so like as to make the resemblance almost extraordinary--was entering the shop, accompanied by an old gentleman who was supporting himself by the aid of a gold-headed stick. The girl also had golden hair. She was dressed in dark blue, and had gray fur round her neck. But above the fur there peeped out a little pale-blue handkerchief made of very soft silk.
”That's purty,” whispered Mrs. Warren to Connie. ”Yer'd like a 'andkercher like that--yer shall 'ave one. Get on in front o' me; you're slimmer nor me; I want to push into the shop.”
Connie obeyed. As she pa.s.sed the fair young girl, the girl seemed to notice the extraordinary likeness between them, for she turned and looked at Connie and smiled. She also said something to her companion, who also stared at the girl. But stout Mrs. Warren poked Connie from behind, and she had to push forward, and presently found herself in the shop.
There it seemed to her that Mrs. Warren did very little buying. It is true she stopped at several counters, always choosing those which were most surrounded by customers; it is true she pulled things about, poking at the goods offered for sale, and making complaints about them, but always keeping Connie well to the fore.
A delicate color had sprung into the girl's cheeks, and almost every one turned to look at her. The shopmen turned; the shopgirls gazed; the customers forgot what they wanted in their amazement at Connie's beauty.
Her hair, in especial, was the subject of universal admiration--its thickness, its length, its marvelous color. The girl herself was quite unconscious of the admiration which her appearance produced, but Mrs.
Warren knew well what a valuable acquisition she had made in little Connie.
When they left the shop she seemed to be in high good-humor. But, lo and behold! a change had taken place in the outside world. The sun, so bright and glorious, had hidden himself behind a murky yellow fog, which was coming up each moment thicker and thicker from the river.
”Oh dear!” said Mrs. Warren.
”Oh dear!” cried Connie too. ”We won't get lost, will us, ma'am?”
”Lost?” cried Mrs. Warren, with a sniff. ”Now, I call this fog the most beautiful fortunation thing that could have 'appened. We'll have a real jolly morning now, Connie. You come along o' me. There, child--walk a bit in front. Why, ye're a real, real beauty. I feel sort of ashamed to be walkin' with yer. Let folks think that you're out with yer nurse, my pretty. Yes, let 'em think that, and that she's screening yer from misfortun' wid her own ample person.”
Thus Connie walked for several hours that day. In and out of crowded thoroughfares the two perambulated. Into shops they went, and out again they came. Everywhere Connie went first, and Mrs. Warren followed very close behind.
At last the good lady said that she had done her morning's shopping.
Connie could not well recall what she had bought, and the pair trudged soberly home.
When they got there Mrs. Warren went straight to her own bedroom, and Connie sat down by the fire, feeling quite tired with so much exercise.