Borrowed Feathers by Ruth Lamb

BREAKFAST was over, and Nettie was standing in Mrs. Worsley's bedroom, speechless and overwhelmed at the sight which met her view. Spread around her were the contents of one of those large boxes which she had assisted Sarah Jane to carry up-stairs on the preceding evening. There were braveries of all kinds suited to a girl like herself, and fit for wear in such a home as Broadlands. Nothing very costly, but all beautiful, dainty, and suggestive of refined taste and a sweet, pure-minded girl wearer.

It was not the first time that Mrs. Worsley had supplied deficiencies in Nettie's wardrobe, and the measures taken a year before would, she knew, still be near enough to go by. She shrewdly suspected that her request for the girl's company would be cheerfully acceded to if no demand were made on the mother's purse to furnish the needed outfit. Even that ten-pound note which had called forth such fervent gratitude, though nominally sent by her mother, had first been given to Mrs. Clifford by Mrs. Worsley for the purpose.