The good woman, who by this time had taken Mary under her wing to uphold her against the rest of the household if it were inclined to resent the new inmate, looked at her reprovingly.
"You never wanted that old frock, and you her ladyship's companion?
No, Miss Mary--for so I shall call you, as by her ladyship's orders, let some people say what they like--that frock you never will see, for gone it has to a poor child that'll maybe find it a comfort when winter comes.

I wonder at you for thinking on it, so I do, seeing as how I've taken so much trouble with your clothes." Mary turned away with a desolate feeling.

The grey linsey might have been like the feathers of the enchanted bird that became a woman for the love of a mortal, the feathers which, if she wore them again, had the power of transporting her back to her kindred and her old estate.

The old life was indeed closed to Mary with the disappearance of the grey linsey; and it was long before she lost the feeling that if she could only have kept her old garments she need not have been so separated from the old life..