She would no longer wear sacking aprons, and open the door herself.

She would be more like Grace Atherton, whom she watched admiringly as she went down the walk to the handsome carriage waiting for her, with driver and footman in tall hats and long coats on the box.
This was the beginning of the fine lady into which Dolly finally blossomed, and when that day Frank went home to his dinner he noticed something in her manner which he could not understand until she told him of Mrs.Atherton's call, and the plight in which that lady had found her.
'Served you right, Dolly,' Frank said, laughing till the tears ran.

'You have no business to be digging round like a slave when we are able to have what we like.

Arthur said we were to keep up the place us he had done, and that does not mean that you should be a scullion.

No, Dolly; have all the girls you want, and hold up your head with the best of them.