"Well, Nelly, I'll see what can be done about it," said Lucy
encouragingly.

"But I haven't anything decent to wear to it, miss," replied Nelly,
looking dolefully down on the tattered frock, which her mother never
took the trouble to mend, and which she, poor child, could not,
except in the most bungling fashion.

Lucy walked home thoughtfully, and, as the fruit of her meditation, a
print dress of her own was next morning produced, and a consultation
was held with her aunt as to the practicability of altering it to fit
Nelly. "I only wonder I didn't think of it before," she said, "for she
is always so miserably dressed. Will you help me to make it up,
Stella?"

"My dear, I wouldn't know how! The most I ever sewed in my life was to
hem a pocket-handkerchief."

Mrs. Steele looked shocked at such deficiency in what she rightly
considered a most important part of female education. She had always
taken care that Lucy should spare enough time from her more congenial
studies, to learn at least to sew neatly.

"Why, Stella!" Lucy exclaimed, "you're almost as bad as poor Nelly,
who said she had never learned to sew because 'nobody had teached
her.'"

"I've never had time to learn. I like embroidery better; and mamma
said we should never need to do plain sewing, so she didn't see the
use of our taking up our time with it."