On the other hand, the appearance of the elder aunts almost shocked
her. At the first glance they seemed bedizened and indecent in their
mixture of rouge and more than middle age; but at the second and the
third they became attractive, oddly distinguished. She felt sure of
them, of their sympathy, of her ability to please them. It was Aunt
Rose who made her feel ill at ease, and it was Aunt Rose of whom she
thought as she sat by her bedroom window and looked down at the back
garden, bright with the flowers of spring.

Yet it was Aunt Caroline who had been unkind about her feet. They were
like that, these grand people; they had beautiful manners but nothing
superficial escaped them; they made no allowances, they went in for no
deceptions, and though it was Caroline who had actually condemned the
small, strong feet which now rested, slipperless, on the soft carpet,
Henrietta was sure that Rose had seen them too. She had seen
everything, though apparently she saw nothing, and Henrietta had to
acknowledge her fear of Rose's criticism. It was formidable, for it
would be unflinching in its standards.

'Well,' Henrietta thought, 'I can only be myself, and if I'm common--
but I'm not really common--it's better than pretending; and of course
I am rather upset by the house and the servants and all the forks and
spoons. I hope there won't be anything funny to eat for dinner. I
wish--' To her own amazement, she burst into a brief storm of tears.
'I wish I had stayed with Mrs. Banks.'

She had her place in the boarding-house, she was a power there, and
she missed already her subtle, unrecognized belief in her superiority
over Mrs. Banks and Miss Stubb and Mr. Jenkins and the rest. She was
also honestly troubled about the welfare of the landlady, who was her