"Father's would never fit." And having poured out fresh water and bidden me wash my body, she stole out.
She returned with a white garment in her hand and real mirth now in her eyes.

My toilet done, she slipped the garment over me.

It fell to my feet in long folds, yet so lightly that I scarcely felt I was clothed: and she clapped her hands in dumb-show.

It was one of her own night-gowns.
I glanced uneasily towards the bed.

Its daintiness frightened me, used as I was to the housekeeping--coarse if clean--of Mrs.Trapp.
"Your prayers first," she whispered.