d her, was really the outgrowth of envy;
that, when she told herself _she_ wouldn't lavish so much time and
thought, and, above all, _money_, on mere outside show, it was mere
nonsense--that she already spent all the time at her disposal, and all
the money she could possibly spare, on the very things which she was
condemning.

The truth was, Ester had a perfectly royal taste in all these matters.
Give her but the wherewithal, and she would speedily have glistened
in silk, and sparkled with jewels; yet she honestly thought that her
bitter denunciation of fashion and folly in this form was outward
evidence of a mind elevated far above such trivial subjects, and
looked down, accordingly, with cool contempt on those whom she was
pleased to denominate "butterflies of fashion."

And, in her flights into a "higher sphere of thought," this absurdly
inconsistent Ester never once remembered how, just exactly a week ago
that day, she had gone around like a storm king, in her own otherwise
peaceful home, almost wearing out the long-suffering patience of her
weary mother, rendered the house intolerable to Sadie, and actually
boxed Julia's ears; and all because she saw with her own common-sense
eyes that she really _could_ not have her blue silk, or rather Sadie's
blue silk, trimmed with netted fringe at twelve shillings a yard, but
must do with simple folds and a seventy-five-cent heading!

Such a two weeks as the last had been in the Ried family! The entire
household had joined in the commotion produced by Ester's projected
visit. It was marvelous how much there was to do. Mrs. Ried toiled
early and late, and made many quiet little sacrifices, in order that
her daughter might not feel too keenly the difference between her
own and her cousin's wardrobe. Sadie emptied what she denominated her
finery box, and donated every article in it, delivering comic little
lectures to each bit of lace and ribbon, as she smoothed them and
patted them, and told them they were going to New York. Julia hemmed
pocket handkerchiefs, and pricked her poor little fingers unmercifully
and uncomplainingly. Alfred ran of errands with remarkable promptness,
but confessed to Julia privately that it was because he was in such
a hurry to have Ester gone, so he could see how it would seem for
everybody to be good natured. Little Minie got in everybody's way as
much as such a tiny creature could, and finally brought the tears
to Ester's eyes, and set every one