yes of the little maiden, whose own
sad-coloured garments and severe simplicity of attire was a
constant source of annoyance to her. Not that she wished to ape the
fine dames in her small person. She knew her place better than
that. She was a tradesman's daughter, and it would ill have
beseemed her to attire herself in silk and velvet, even though the
sumptuary laws had been repealed. But she did not see why she might
not have a scarlet under-petticoat like Rachel Dyson, her own
cousin, or a gay bird's wing to adorn her hat on holiday occasions.
The utmost she had ever achieved for herself was a fine soft
coverchief for her head, instead of the close unyielding coif which
all her relatives wore, which quite concealed their hair, and gave
a quaint severity to their square and homely faces. Cherry's face
was not square, but a little pointed, piquant countenance, from
which a pair of long-lashed gray eyes looked forth with saucy,
mischievous brightness. Her skin was very fair, with a peach-like
bloom upon it, and her pretty hair hung round it in a mass of red
gold curls.

Cherry, it must be confessed, would have liked to leave her hair
uncovered, but this was altogether against the traditions of her
family. But she had contrived to assume the softly-flowing
coverchief, more like a veil than a cap, which was infinitely
becoming to the sweet childish face, and allowed the pretty curls
to be seen flowing down on either side till they reached the
shoulders. For the rest, her dress was severely plain in its
simplicity: the snow-white kerchief, crossed in front and made fast
behind; the under-petticoat of gray homespun, just showing the
black hose and buckled shoes beneath; and the over-dress of sombre
black or dark brown, puffed out a little over the hips in the
pannier fashion, but without any pretence at following the
extravagances of the day. The sleeves buttoned tightly to the lower
arm, though wider at the cuff, and rose high upon the shoulder with
something of a puff. It was a simple and by no means an unbecoming
style of costume; but Cherry secretly repined at the monotony of
always dressing in precisely the same fashion. Other friends of her
own standing had plenty of pretty things suited to their station,
and why not she? If she asked the question of any, the answer she
always got was that her father followed the Puritan fashions of
dressing and thinking and speaking, and that he held fine clothes
in abhorrence. Che