Betty instinctively drew her pretty bare feet under her for protection, and looked from Aunt Pike to Kitty with eyes full of horror.  Kitty was desperate.

“I am very sorry, Aunt Pike,” she said, quite gently and nicely, but very emphatically, “but we cannot wear woollen stockings.  They drive us nearly mad—­”

“Nonsense,” interrupted Aunt Pike, with the complete indifference of a person not afflicted with a sensitive skin.  “You will get over that in an hour or two.  If you don’t think about it you won’t notice anything.  Try them on at once.  I want to see if they fit.”

“It—­it would really be better not to put them on,” urged Kitty, “for we really couldn’t wear them if you bought them, aunt, and the people won’t take them back if they are creased.”

“They will not be required to take them back,” said Mrs. Pike firmly.  “I have bought you six pairs each”—­Betty groaned—­“Don’t make that noise, Elizabeth—­and if they fit they will be kept.  They are very fine and quite soft; any one could wear them quite comfortably, and so can you, unless, of course,” severely, “you make up your minds not to.”

Persons who are not afflicted with sensitive skins cannot, or will not, be made to understand how great and real the torment is, and young though Kitty was, she had, already learned this, and her heart sank.

“I hate light stockings too,” said Betty; “they look so ugly with black shoes.”

It was an unfortunate remark to make just then.

“Ah,” said Aunt Pike triumphantly, “I suspected that vanity was at the bottom of it all!  Now try on this one at once, Katherine; make haste.”  She went to the door.—­“Anthony,” she called, “come here to Kitty’s room, I want you,” and she stood over the three victims until their poor shrinking legs were encased in the hideous, irritating gray horrors.

Oh, the anger of Kitty and the dismay of Betty!  Oh, the horrible, damp, sticky feeling that new stockings seem never to be without!  Betty’s blue eyes filled with tears of helpless misery, Kitty’s gray ones with rebellion.  Why should they be tormented in this way?  It was so cruel, so unjust!  They had not suffered from the cold more than had other people, certainly they had not complained of it—­not half as much as had Mrs. Pike and Anna, who were clad in wool from their throats to their toes.

Tony sat looking at his poor little legs disgustedly, but it was the ugliness of his new footgear that struck him most; he did not feel the torment as his sisters did.  Then quite suddenly Betty stripped off the detestable things.

“Thank you,” she said, “I’ll wear my old ones.  I prefer the cold.”

Mrs. Pike coloured with annoyance and set her lips firmly.  “How dare you defy me in that way, Elizabeth!” she cried.  “I have told you to wear those stockings, and you are to wear them.  Remember, I mean what I say.  I wonder your father has not insisted long before this on your wearing flannel next your skin.  Don’t you know that by going about in flimsy cotton things in all weathers you are laying up for yourself a rheumatic old age, and all kinds of serious illness?”