"I never thought yo'd be dining with Thorntons," repeated Bessy. "Why, the mayor hissel' dines there; and the members of Parliament and all."
"I think, I could support the honour of meeting the mayor of Milton."
"But them ladies dress so grand!" said Bessy, with an anxious look at Margaret's print gown, which her Milton eyes appraised at sevenpence a yard.
Margaret's face dimpled up into a merry laugh. "Thank you, Bessy, for thinking so kindly about my looking nice among all the smart people. But I've plenty of grand gowns,—a week ago, I should have said they were far too grand for anything I should ever want again. But as I'm to dine at Mr. Thornton's, and perhaps to meet the mayor, I shall put on my very best gown, you may be sure."
"What win yo' wear?" asked Bessy, somewhat relieved.
"White silk," said Margaret. "A gown I had for a cousin's wedding, a year ago."
"That'll do!" said Bessy, falling back in her chair. "I should be loth to have yo' looked down upon."
"Oh ! I'll be fine enough, if that will save me from being looked down upon in Milton."
"I wish I could see you dressed up," said Bessy. "I reckon, yo're not what folk would ca' pretty; yo've not red and white enough for that. But dun yo' know, I ha' dreamt of yo', long afore ever I seed yo'."
"Nonsense, Bessy!"
"Ay, but I did. Yo'r very face,—looking wi' yo'r
