xpressed it, for
sundry uncomplimentary remarks on herself and Bella.

"And supposing," was Lilac's next remark, "as how I _was_ to make up my
mind, I couldn't never do it for myself. I should be scared."

This difficulty the energetic Agnetta was quite ready to meet. _She_
would do it. Lilac had only to run down to the farm early next morning,
and, after she was made fashionable, she could go straight on to the
artist. "And won't he just be surprised!" she added with a chuckle. "I
don't expect he'll hardly know you."

"You're _quite_ sure it'll make me look better?" said Lilac wistfully.
She had the utmost faith in her cousin, but the step seemed to her such
a terribly large one.

"Ain't I?" was Agnetta's scornful reply. "Why, Gusta says all the
ladies in London wears their hair like that now."

After this last convincing proof, for Gusta's was a name of great
authority, Lilac resisted no longer, and soon discovered, by the
striking of the church clock, that it was getting very late. She said
good-bye to Agnetta, therefore, and, leaving her to make her way back at
her leisure, ran quickly on through the meadows all streaked and
sprinkled with the spring flowers. After these came the dusty high-road
for a little while, and then she reached the foot of the steep hill
which led up to her home. The artist gentleman was there as usual, a
pipe in his mouth, and a palette on his thumb, painting busily: as she
hurriedly dropped a curtsy in passing, Lilac's heart beat quite fast.

"Me in a picture with a fringe!" she said to herself; "how I do hope as
Mother won't mind!"

That afternoon, when she sat quietly down to her sewing, this great idea
weighed heavily upon her. It would be the very first step she had ever
taken without her mother's approval, and away from the influence of
Agnetta's decided opinion it seemed doubly alarming--a desperate and yet
an attractive deed.

Now and then for a moment she thought it would be better to tell her
mother, but when she looked up at the grave, rather sad face, bent
closely over some needlework, she lacked courage to begin. It seemed
far removed from such trifles as fringes and fashions; and though, as
Lilac knew well, it could have at times a smile full of love upon it,
just now its expression was thoughtful, and even stern.

She kept silence, therefore, and stitched away with a mind as busy as
her fingers, until it was time to boil the kettle and get the tea ready.