Miss Hatchard, pale with fatigue and excitement, thanked her
young assistants, and stood in the porch, leaning on her crutches and
waving a farewell as she watched them troop away down the street.
Charity had slipped off among the first; but at the gate she heard Ally
Hawes calling after her, and reluctantly turned.
"Will you come over now and try on your dress?" Ally asked, looking at
her with wistful admiration. "I want to be sure the sleeves don't ruck
up the same as they did yesterday."
Charity gazed at her with dazzled eyes. "Oh, it's lovely," she said, and
hastened away without listening to Ally's protest. She wanted her dress
to be as pretty as the other girls'--wanted it, in fact, to outshine the
rest, since she was to take part in the "exercises"--but she had no time
just then to fix her mind on such matters....
She sped up the street to the library, of which she had the key about
her neck. From the passage at the back she dragged forth a bicycle, and
guided it to the edge of the street.
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