She felt sorry when her grandfather mounted into the little cart to drive home, and she almost wished she was going with him; but granny, taking her by the hand, led her quickly down the street and into a draper’s shop.

Jessie felt rather shy when her grandmother led her in, for though she had spent a lot of time looking at shop windows with her mother, she had very seldom been inside one, and when she had gone in the places had been so full of people always that no one had paid any heed to her, which was what she liked.  But here she and her grandmother seemed to be almost the only customers that afternoon, and all the assistants looked at them as they entered.  They all smiled, too, and most of them said, “Good-afternoon, Mrs. Dawson,” in a very friendly way, which only made Jessie feel even more uncomfortable, for she realized suddenly that her boots were cracked, and her hat very shabby, and that she had no gloves at all; and she wished very much that they could get right away up to the far end of the shop, where it seemed quite empty and quiet.

Mrs. Dawson apparently wished the same, for though she gave a smile and a greeting to all, she walked sturdily through the shop, ignoring the chairs pulled out for her by the polite shop-walker, and made her way to the very end, where a pleasant-faced attendant stood alone, rolling up ribbons in a leisurely way.

“Well, Mrs. Dawson,” she said brightly, “you are a stranger.  I hope you are well?  And who is this little person?  Not your granddaughter, surely?”

“Yes, it is.  This is Lizzie’s little girl,” said Mrs. Dawson, a faint flush rising to her cheeks.  “She is come to stay with us for a good long spell.”

“Well, the country air will do her good.  She looks rather thin.”

“She does,” agreed Mrs. Dawson, looking at Jessie with kindly anxious eyes, “but she looks healthy, I think, don’t you?” Already it gave her a pang to hear any one say that her Jessie did not look well.

“Oh yes!” agreed the girl reassuringly.  “What can I get for you to-day, Mrs. Dawson?”

“Well,” said Mrs. Dawson thoughtfully, “it seems to me I want a good many things.  What I want mostly is some clothes for Jessie.  Living in the country, she ought to have something that’ll wear well, strong boots, and a plain sun-hat, and some print for washing-frocks.”

Jessie’s eyes opened wider and wider.  Were all those things really to be bought for her?  It seemed impossible; but the girl, who did not seem at all overcome, went off as though it were quite an ordinary matter, and presently she returned with an armful of pretty soft straw hats with wide drooping brims, and tried them one by one over Jessie’s curls.

“I declare, any of them would suit her; but I think she’d look sweet in that one,” she said at last, and granny agreed.

“What would you trim it with?” she asked; “a bit of plain ribbon, I should think.”  But the girl shook her head.