With this Matthew s companion stopped talking, partly because she was
out of breath and partly because they had reached the buggy. Not another
word did she say until they had left the village and were driving down
a steep little hill, the road part of which had been cut so deeply into
the soft soil that the banks, fringed with blooming wild cherry-trees
and slim white birches, were several feet above their heads.
The child put out her hand and broke off a branch of wild plum that
brushed against the side of the buggy.
Isn t that beautiful? What did that tree, leaning out from the bank,
all white and lacy, make you think of? she asked.
Well now, I dunno, said Matthew.
Why, a bride, of course--a bride all in white with a lovely misty veil.
I ve never seen one, but I can imagine what she would look like. I don t
ever expect to be a bride myself. I m so homely nobody will ever want to
marry me--unless it might be a foreign missionary. I suppose a foreign
missionary mightn t be very particular. But I do hope that some day I
shall have a white dress. That is my highest ideal of earthly bliss. I
just love pretty clothes. And I ve never had a pretty dress in my life
that I can remember--but of course it s all the more to look forward
to, isn t it? And then I can imagine that I m dressed gorgeously. This
morning when I left the asylum I felt so ashamed because I had to wear
this horrid old wincey dress. All the orphans had to wear them, you
know. A merchant in Hopeton last winter donated three hundred yards of
wincey to the asylum. Some people said it was because he couldn t sell
it, but I d rather believe that it was out of the kindness of his heart,
wouldn t you? When we got on the train I felt as if everybody must be
looking at me and pitying me. But I just went to work and imagined that
I had on the most beautiful pale blue silk dress--because when you _are_
imagining you might as well imagine something worth while--and a big
hat all flowers and nodding plumes, and a gold watch, and kid gloves and
boots. I felt cheered up right away and I enjoyed my trip to the Island
with all my might. I wasn t a bit sick coming over in the boat. Neither
was Mrs. Spencer, although she generally is. She said she hadn t time
to get sick, watching to see that I didn t fall overboard. She said she
never saw the beat of me for prowling about. But if it kept her from
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