I rose; I dressed myself with care: obliged to be plain⁠—for I had no article of attire that was not made with extreme simplicity⁠—I was still by nature solicitous to be neat. It was not my habit to be disregardful of appearance or careless of the impression I made: on the contrary, I ever wished to look as well as I could, and to please as much as my want of beauty would permit. I sometimes regretted that I was not handsomer; I sometimes wished to have rosy cheeks, a straight nose, and small cherry mouth; I desired to be tall, stately, and finely developed in figure; I felt it a misfortune that I was so little, so pale, and had features so irregular and so marked. And why had I these aspirations and these regrets? It would be difficult to say: I could not then distinctly say it to myself; yet I had a reason, and a logical, natural reason too. However, when I had brushed my hair very smooth, and put on my black frock⁠—which, Quakerlike as it was, at least had the merit of fitting to a nicety⁠—and adjusted my clean white tucker, I thought I should do respectably enough to appear before Mrs.