mocking expression in Mrs Irwine's face as she looked at Arthur, while Bessy came up and dropped a series of curtsies.
"This is Bessy Cranage, mother," said Mr Irwine kindly, "Chad Cranage's daughter. You remember Chad Cranage, the blacksmith?"
"Yes, to be sure," said Mrs Irwine. "Well, Bessy, here is your prize—excellent warm things for winter. I'm sure you have had hard work to win them this warm day."
Bessy's lip fell, as she saw the ugly, heavy gown,—which felt so hot and disagreeable, too, on this July day, and was such a great ugly thing to carry. She dropped her curtsies again, without looking up, and with a growing tremulousness about the corners of her mouth, and then turned away.
"Poor girl," said Arthur; "I think she's disappointed. I wish it had been something more to her taste."
"She's a bold-looking young person," observed Miss Lydia. "Not at all one I should like to encourage."
Arthur silently resolved that he would make Bessy a present of money before the day was over, that she might buy something more to her mind;
