t she looked
a veritable little Puritan; and between these extremes ranged a variety
of effects, only possible of achievement to an amateur with no
experience, but boundless ambition.

If you could have honestly pronounced Betty pretty, you would have
satisfied the deepest longing of her heart. She gazed in the glass
every morning, twisting her head from side to side, and deciding
irrevocably that she was hideous, a fright, a perfect freak, while all
the time an obstinate little hope lingered that perhaps after all, in
becoming clothes, and when she was in a good temper, she might look
rather ... nice! Chestnut hair, such a pretty colour, but so little of
it that it would not "go" like other girls'; dark grey eyes with curly
black lashes; an impertinent little nose, and a mouth just about twice
as big as those possessed by the ladies in mother's _Book of Beauty_
downstairs. At the best she could only be "pretty" or a "sweet-looking
girl," and she pined to be beautiful and stately, and to reign as a
queen over the hearts of men.

Poor Betty! Many a girl of seventeen lives through the same tragedy in
secret, but they are not all fortunate enough to possess an adoring
younger sister who thinks her all that she fain would be.

Pam put out a little ink-stained hand, and stroked the half-finished
blouse admiringly.

"It's going to be lubly, Bet! It hardly shows a bit where you joined
it. You'll soon have finished it now."

"No, I shan't," snapped Betty. "There's heaps to do still, and it's
getting too cold for cottons. Just my luck! I always seem to be making
mistakes. It wasn't my fault that that stupid girl looked up and caught
us watching."

The underlying thought showed itself in the sudden change of subject,
but Pam was not surprised, for in her quiet, shrewd little way she had
divined it long ago.

"But you said she'd look up, so you could have moved if you liked. I
don't think it was very perlite," she said solemnly. "There were all
four of you at the window, and my eyes peeping round Miles' back. I
expect it looked pretty fearful. She went purple, didn't she? It's
horrid to blush! I did once when I got a prize before people, and I
hated it."

"Oh, you! You are a modest little mouse. The Pet is quite different.
Nasty thing, she might have been satisfied without making mischief
between Miles and me! She has everything that she wants, and that _I_
want, and haven't got. She's pretty, and ri