“Wait but here for me a little five minutes,” she said; “I have an errand to my cousin Rachel.”

She was gone in a moment, slipping through the open door and leaving Cuthbert outside in the street.  He knew the house for her uncle Dyson’s, and was in no way alarmed about her.  Nor was she long in rejoining him again.  But when she came out, laughing, blushing, and dimpling, he scarce knew her for the moment, so transformed was she; and he stood perfectly mute before the radiant young vision his eyes encountered.

The sober black under-petticoat had been replaced by one of vivid scarlet taffeta, quilted with elaboration, and further adorned with embroidery in white silk.  The gray upper robe was the same as before, the soft stuff and quiet tone harmonizing and contrasting well with the bright hue of the petticoat.  The little feet were encased in the daintiest of strong buckled shoes, and in scarlet hose to match the quilted skirt; whilst the cloak and hood were now of soft white lamb’s-wool cloth, such as Abraham Dyson made a specialty of in his business; and the vivid delicate colour upon the girl’s laughing face as it peeped out of the snowy hood was set off to the greatest possible advantage by the pure white frame, so suited to the child’s infantile style of beauty.

“Why, Cherry, I scarce know thee!” cried Cuthbert, amazed.

“I scarce know myself,” answered the laughing girl, blushing and dimpling with mischievous pleasure; “and I trust none else will know me neither if we meet more friends by the way.  I will pull my hood well over my face, for I would not have this frolic reach Aunt Susan’s ears.  She would make a mighty coil anent it.  But oh, I have so longed for pretty things such as Rachel wears Why is it wrong to love bright colours and soft fabrics?  I will not believe it is.  When I am grown to woman’s estate, and have a home of my own to regulate, I will wear what I choose and what becomes me best.  It is folly to think God loves not beauty and brightness.  Has He not made the sky blue, the trees green, the flowers of every hue of the rainbow?  Does He not paint the sky with brilliant hues?  Why is man alone of his creatures to be dull and sad?”

“Nay, I know not; I am unlearned in these questions.  But how got you these fine clothes?  Did Mistress Rachel lend them?”

“Rachel has always longed to give this petticoat to me.  She is weary of it, and it is something too short for her; but I knew I might never wear it, and that Aunt Susan would chide me roundly for bringing such a thing home.  So Rachel said she would lay it by for me when her new robe came home at Christmastide.  Then she whispered to me last week that her father had a present for me—­a cloak and hood that he thought my father would let me wear, albeit Aunt Susan might ill like it.  So passing the house today, methought I might slip in and ask Rachel if I might wear the new cloak and hood to Lord Andover’s;