She was to be Travis's guest.
The rest of it, the railroad expenses, the new trunk and the new
clothes which footed up to such an enormous sum in her eyes, were of
her father's giving, and she promised herself a happiness in
proportion to the sacrifice he had made to provide for her.
"Hurry, Mary Lee!" called her mother, again. At the second call there
was a light rustle through the hall, and the bright face looking in at
the door seemed to transform all its surroundings.
"I couldn't come any sooner, mother dear, for admiring myself in my
new travelling-clothes. Oh, I'm such a fine peacock in all my fine
feathers!" she said, pausing to give her father a quick hug before she
took her place at the table. "Do tell me that I look like a real
born-to-the-purple, tailor-made girl."
Her father looked at her critically from the crown of her simple
travelling-hat to the tips of her little shoes, and there was an
unmistakable gleam of pride in his eyes as he completed his survey.
"Yes, you do," he said, slowly. "You would pass muster anywhere. I
don't mean your clothes alone; but it is written all over you, so
plainly that even a stranger must see at a glance, 'This is a real
little lady!'"
A little later they were bidding each other good-bye on a parlour car
in the Union Depot. Travis Dent had joined them.
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