“Mamma and Phyllis think you ought not to go,” said Nell; “but Mark and I intend to fight for you.  Mark says he was so nasty to you lately that he wants to make up.”

Hetty’s eyes sparkled at the idea of having this pleasant variety.

“I shall never be allowed to go,” she said.

“Oh, if it is only a frock, you can have one of mine,” said Nell; “I got a new one for the last party, and my one before is not so bad.”

“It isn’t the frock, I am sure,” said Hetty; “it is because I am not to be a lady.  At least,” she added, remembering Edith’s rebuke, “I am not to be a party-lady, not a dancing-and-dressing-lady.  I am only to be a book-lady, a penwiper-lady, a needle-and-thread-lady, you know, Nell.”

“Oh, Hetty! a penwiper-lady!”

“Yes, haven’t you seen them at bazaars?” said Hetty, screwing up her little nose to keep from laughing.

“I never know whether you are in earnest when you begin like that,” said Nell pouting; “I suppose you don’t want to come with us.”

However, when Hetty heard that she had really got leave to go “for this once, because Edith and Grace had made such a point of it,” there was no mistake about her gladness to join in the fun.

“How will you ever keep me at home after this?” she said, as Phyllis and Nell stood surveying her dressed in one of their cast-off frocks, of a rose-coloured tint which suited her brunette complexion.  “I shall be getting into your pockets the next time, and tumbling out in the ball-room with your pocket-handkerchief.”

“No one wants to keep you at home, except for your own good,” said Phyllis with an air of wisdom.

“Never mind, Phyllis, it won’t be into your pocket that I shall creep,” said Hetty gaily.

Phyllis did not feel like herself that evening, and was dissatisfied about she knew not what.  She could not admit to herself that she was displeased because another was to enjoy a treat, even though she thought she had a right to her belief that it would have been better if Hetty had been made to stay at home.  “Of course, as mother consents, it is all right,” she had said; but still she did not feel as much enjoyment as usual in dressing for the party.  Half suspecting the cause of this, and willing to restore her good opinion of her own virtue, she brought a pretty fan to Hetty and offered to lend it to her.  Hetty took it with a look and exclamation of thanks; but Phyllis thought she hardly expressed her gratitude with sufficient humbleness.  However, Phyllis had now soothed away that faint doubt in her own mind as to her own kindness and generosity, and took no further notice of her unwelcome companion.

Arrived at the ball, Hetty was warmly received by Edith and Grace, and was soon in a whirl of delightful excitement.  She had “as many partners as she could use,” as a tiny girl once expressed it, and she was not, like Cinderella, afraid that her frock would turn to rags, or anxious to run home before the other dancers.  Everybody was very kind to her, and if anyone said, “That is the little girl whom Mr. Enderby is bringing up for charity,” Hetty did not hear it, and so did not care.