On her account she became a close student of the fashion-papers, and but for the girl's protests would have bought her a new dress at least every day.
She would have liked Ida to change her costume a dozen times between morning and evening, and asked no better than to serve as her dressing-maid.

To brush and braid her shining hair, stealthily kissing it the while; to array her in sheeny satins and airy muslins; to hang jewels upon her neck, and clasp bracelets upon her wrists, and to admire and caress the completed work of her hands, constituted an occupation which she would have liked to make perpetual.
When Miss Ludington's mother had died she had left to her daughter, then a young girl, all her jewels, including a rather flue set of diamonds.
When one day Miss Ludington took the gems from the box in which they had been hidden away for half a lifetime, and hung them upon Ida, saying, "These are yours, my sister," the girl protested, albeit with scintillating eyes, against the greatness of the gift.
"Why, my darling, they are yours," replied Miss Ludington.

"I am not making you a gift.

It was to you that mother gave them.

I only return you your own.