She had put out my dress for me by my orders.  I had chosen the least becoming garment in my wardrobe, a black grenadine, very simply made, which belonged to my schoolgirl days.  It was high to the neck and had elbow sleeves, and the cut was old-fashioned.  I wished to look my worst at Damerstown, although I was forced to go there by my grandfather’s will.

It was nearly time for me to dress when my grandmother came into the little room, where I was sitting watching Nora as she sewed a little tucker of old lace into the neck of the garment.

“What are you going to wear, Bawn?” she asked.

“This.”  I indicated the grenadine.

“It will never do, Bawn,” my grandmother said, shaking her head.  “We are to do honour to our hosts.  I am wearing my moire and my diamonds.  If you were to appear in this your grandfather would send you back to change.”

“I should have thought it good enough for the Dawsons,” I said, with a little heat; and then I remembered Nora’s presence, and also that my grandparents were frightened of the Dawsons and anxious to propitiate them, and I was sorry.

“What would you like me to wear, Gran?” I asked.

“Your white silk with the Limerick lace.”

“Why, I shall be like a bride,” I said aghast, for the white silk was one of my godmother’s gifts to me, and the finest gown I possessed.  When she had given it to me she had said that I should dance in it at a Castle ball.

“Never mind,” my grandmother said.  “Your grandfather wishes it, child.  And you are to wear the pearls.  I am going to send Bridget Connor to dress your hair.  Nora can do the rest.”  She turned to smile kindly at Nora.  “See you look your best, child.  It is your grandfather’s will.”

Bridget Connor piled my hair in soft, cloudy masses on the top of my head.  In and out through the coils she wound a string of my grandmother’s pearls.  Then she went away, and Nora took her place and helped to dress me.

The white silk had lain by for many a year and was somewhat yellowed, but the richer for that.  Louise in adapting it had altered its character but little.  It was short in the waist and somewhat narrowly cut, straight and demure all round till it ended in a little train at the back.  It was almost swathed in the most beautiful old Limerick lace, through which the rich ivory tints of the silk showed.  My grandmother’s pearls went three times round my neck before they fell loosely on my bodice.

When I looked at my reflection in the long mirror I confess my splendour rather dazzled me.  If only it had been for Anthony Cardew’s eyes!  But I hated that I should appear so fine to do honour to the Dawsons, and I dreaded more than ever meeting Richard Dawson’s insolent gaze.

I wondered how he would take it when he saw me and recognized me for the peasant girl he had insulted.  Would he be abashed, confused?  I thought he must be; and the one pleasant thing in what was going to befall me was that I should see his discomfiture.