"Oh, golly! Like a parrot--ain't she?"

"This way to the purple parrot--this way! Step up, ladies and
gentlemen! A penny the whole show!"

That evening, she tore the dress from her back and, hanging it up
inside the cloak, vowed that, come what might, she would never put it
on again. A day or two later, on unexpectedly entering her bedroom, she
found Lilith Gordon and another girl at her wardrobe. They grew very
red, and hurried giggling from the room, but Laura had seen what they
were looking at. After this, she tied the dress up with string and
brown paper and hid it in a drawer, under her nightgowns. When she went
home at Christmas it went with her, still in the parcel, and then there
was a stormy scene. But Laura was stubborn: rather than wear the dress,
she would not go back to the College at all. Mother's heart had been
softened by the prizes; Laura seized the occasion, and extracted a
promise that she should be allowed in future to choose her own
frocks.-- And so the purple dress was passed on to Pin, who detested it
with equal heartiness, but, living under Mother's eye, had not the
spirit to fight against it.

"Got anything new in the way of clothes?" asked Lilith Gordon as she
and Laura undressed for bed a night or two after their return.

"Yes, one," said Laura shortly.--For she thought Lilith winked at the
third girl, a publican's daughter from Clunes.

"Another like the last? Or have you gone in for yellow ochre this time?"

Laura flamed in silence.

"Great Scott, what a colour that was! Fit for an Easter Fair--Miss Day
said so."

"It wasn't mine," retorted Laura passionately. "It ... it belonged to a
girl I knew who died--and her mother gave it to me as a remembrance of
her--but I didn't care for it."

"I shouldn't think you did.--But I say, does your mother let you wear
other people's clothes? What a rummy thing to do!"

She went out of the room--no doubt to spread this piece of gossip
further. Laura looked daggers after her. She was angry enough with
Lilith for having goaded her to the lie, but much angrier with herself
for its blundering ineffectualness. It was not likely she had been
believed, and if she were, well, it made matters worse instead of
better: people would conclude that she lived on charity. Always when
unexpectedly required to stand on the defensive, she said or did
something foolish. That morning, for instance, a similar thing had
happened--it had rankled all day in her min