Kelda remembered how pretty her mother had always looked, despite the fact that she could never afford anything expensive.
“It is not only what you spend,” she had said once, “it is having good taste and knowing what suits one’s real self.”
‘Perhaps if I had the chance,’ Kelda thought, ‘I too would have good taste.’
She had only to look in the mirror to realise that the grey gown that she wore, which was made of coarse cotton, was unbecoming and appeared, as indeed she was, poverty-stricken.
It was, of course, chosen by Mrs. Gladwin, who ever since she had come to the Seminary had insisted on repeating the same grey garments she had worn in the orphanage rather than buying her dresses of a brighter and more cheerful colour.
“Please, Madam,” she had asked a year ago, “as I am having a
