The Old Lady selected a very dainty muslin gown , with gloves and slippers in keeping ; and she ordered it sent at once , expressage prepaid , to Miss Sylvia Gray , in care of William Spencer , Spencervale . Then she paid down the money -- the whole price of the jug , minus a dollar and a half for railroad fare -- with a grand , careless air and departed . As she marched erectly down the aisle of the store , she encountered a sleek , portly , prosperous man coming in . As their eyes met , the man started and his bland face flushed crimson ; he lifted his hat and bowed confusedly . But the Old Lady looked through him as if he was n't there , and passed on with not a sign of recognition about her . He took one step after her , then stopped and turned away , with a rather disagreeable smile and a shrug of his shoulders . Nobody would have guessed , as the Old Lady swept out , how her heart was seething with abhorrence and scorn . She would not have had the courage to come to town , even for Sylvia 's sake , if she had thought she would meet Andrew Cameron . The mere sight of him opened up anew a sealed fountain of bitterness in her soul ; but the thought of Sylvia somehow stemmed the torrent , and presently the Old Lady was smiling rather triumphantly , thinking rightly that she had come off best in that unwelcome encounter . SHE , at any rate , had not faltered and coloured , and lost her presence of mind . `` It is little wonder HE did , '' thought the Old Lady vindictively . It pleased her that Andrew Cameron should lose , before her , the front of adamant he presented to the world . He was her cousin and the only living creature Old Lady Lloyd hated , and she hated and despised him with all the intensity of her intense nature . She and hers had sustained grievous wrong at his hands , and the Old Lady was convinced that she would rather die than take any notice of his existence . Presently , she resolutely put Andrew Cameron out of her mind . It was desecration to think of him and Sylvia together . When she laid her weary head on her pillow that night she was so happy that even the thought of the vacant shelf in the room below , where the grape jug had always been , gave her only a momentary pang . `` It 's sweet to sacrifice for one we love -- it 's sweet to have someone to sacrifice for , '' thought the Old Lady . Desire grows by what it feeds on . The Old Lady thought she was content ; but Friday evening came and found her in a perfect fever to see Sylvia in her party dress .
It was not enough XXXXX fancy her in it ; nothing would do the Old Lady but seeing her .
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