A Girl of the Limberlost. Stratton-Porter Gene
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maybe I can sell the butcher a calf, or if things are too costly for us, of course, they can take them back. Put on the waist now, and then you can look over the rest and see if they are suitable, and what you want.”
Elnora stepped into the adjoining room and closed the door. Mrs. Comstock picked up the bucket and started for the well with it. At the bedroom she paused.
“Elnora, were you going to wash these arrow points?”
“Yes. The Bird Woman says they sell better if they are clean, so it can be seen that there are no defects in them.”
“Of course,” said Mrs. Comstock. “Some of them seem quite baked. Shall I put them to soak? Do you want to take them in the morning?”
“Yes, I do,” answered Elnora. “If you would just fill the pail with water.”
Mrs. Comstock left the room. Wesley Sinton sat with his back to the window in the west end of the cabin which overlooked the well. A suppressed sound behind him caused him to turn quickly. Then he arose and leaned over Margaret.
“She's out there laughing like a blamed monkey!” he whispered indignantly.
“Well, she can't help it!” exclaimed Margaret.
“I'm going home!” said Wesley.
“Oh no, you are not!” retorted Margaret. “You are missing the point. The point is not how you look, or feel. It is to get these things in Elnora's possession past dispute. You go now, and to-morrow Elnora will wear calico, and Kate Comstock will return these goods. Right here I stay until everything we bought is Elnora's.”
“What are you going to do?” asked Wesley.
“I don't know yet, myself,” said Margaret.
Then she arose and peered from the window. At the well curb stood Katharine Comstock. The strain of the day was finding reaction. Her chin was in the air, she was heaving, shaking and strangling to suppress any sound. The word that slipped between Margaret Sinton's lips shocked Wesley until he dropped on his chair, and recalled her to her senses. She was fairly composed as she turned to Elnora, and began the fitting. When she had pinched, pulled, and patted she called, “Come see if you think this fits, Kate.”
Mrs. Comstock had gone around to the back door and answered from the kitchen. “You know more about it than I do. Go ahead! I'm getting supper. Don't forget to allow for what it will shrink in washing!”
“I set the colours and washed the goods last night; it can be made to fit right now,” answered Margaret.
When she could find nothing more to alter she told Elnora to heat some water. After she had done that the girl began opening packages.
The hat came first.
“Mother!” cried Elnora. “Mother, of course, you have seen this, but you haven't seen it on me. I must try it on.”
“Don't you dare put that on your head until your hair is washed and properly combed,” said Margaret.
“Oh!” cried Elnora. “Is that water to wash my hair? I thought it was to set the colour in another dress.”
“Well, you thought wrong,” said Margaret simply. “Your hair is going to be washed and brushed until it shines like copper. While it dries you can eat your supper, and this dress will be finished. Then you can put on your new ribbon, and your hat. You can try your shoes now, and if they don't fit, you and Wesley can drive to town and change them. That little round bundle on the top of the basket is your stockings.”
Margaret sat down and began sewing swiftly, and a little later opened the machine, and ran several long seams.
Elnora returned in a few minutes holding up her skirts and stepping daintily in the new shoes.
“Don't soil them, honey, else you're sure they fit,” cautioned Wesley.
“They seem just a trifle large, maybe,” said Elnora dubiously, and Wesley knelt to feel. He and Margaret thought them a fit, and then Elnora appealed to her mother. Mrs. Comstock appeared wiping her hands on her apron. She examined the shoes critically.
“They seem to fit,” she said, “but they are away too fine to walk country roads.”
“I think so, too,” said Elnora instantly. “We had better take these back and get a cheaper pair.”
“Oh, let them go for this time,” said Mrs. Comstock. “They are so pretty, I hate to part with them. You can get cheaper ones after this.”
Wesley and Margaret scarcely breathed for a long time.
When Wesley went to do the feeding. Elnora set the table. When the water was hot, Margaret pinned a big towel around Elnora's shoulders and washed and dried the lovely hair according to the instructions she had been given the previous night. As the hair began to dry it billowed out in a sparkling sheen that caught the light and gleamed and flashed.
“Now, the idea is to let it stand naturally, just as the curl will make it. Don't you do any of that nasty, untidy snarling, Elnora,” cautioned Margaret. “Wash it this way every two weeks while you are in school, shake it out, and dry it. Then part it in the middle and turn a front quarter on each side from your face. You tie the back at your neck with a string—so, and the ribbon goes in a big, loose bow. I'll show you.” One after another Margaret Sinton tied the ribbons, creasing each of them so they could not be returned, as she explained that she was trying to find the colour most becoming. Then she produced the raincoat which carried Elnora into transports.
Mrs. Comstock objected. “That won't be warm enough for cold weather, and you can't afford it and a coat, too.”
“I'll tell you what I thought,” said Elnora. “I was planning on the way home. These coats are fine because they keep you dry. I thought I would get one, and a warm sweater to wear under it cold days. Then I always would be dry, and warm. The sweater only costs three dollars, so I could get it and the raincoat both for half the price of a heavy cloth coat.”
“You are right about that,” said Mrs. Comstock. “You can change more with the weather, too. Keep the raincoat, Elnora.”
“Wear it until you try the hat,” said Margaret. “It will have to do until the dress is finished.”
Elnora picked up the hat dubiously. “Mother, may I wear my hair as it is now?” she asked.
“Let me take a good look,” said Katharine Comstock.
Heaven only knows what she saw. To Wesley and to Margaret the bright young face of Elnora, with its pink tints, its heavy dark brows, its bright blue-gray eyes, and its frame of curling reddish-brown hair was the sweetest sight on earth, and at that instant Elnora was radiant.
“So long as it's your own hair, and combed back as plain as it will go, I don't suppose it cuts much ice whether it's tied a little tighter or looser,” conceded Mrs. Comstock. “If you stop right there, you may let it go at that.”
Elnora set the hat on her head. It was only a wide tan straw with three exquisite peacock quills at one side. Margaret Sinton cried out, Wesley slapped his knee and sighed deeply while Mrs. Comstock stood speechless for a second.
“I wish you had asked the price before you put that on,” she said impatiently. “We never can afford it.”
“It's not so much as you think,” said Margaret. “Don't you see what I did? I had them take off the quills, and put on some of those Phoebe Simms gave me from her peacocks. The hat will only cost you a dollar and a half.”
She avoided Wesley's eyes, and looked straight at Mrs. Comstock. Elnora removed the hat to examine it.
“Why, they are those reddish-tan quills of yours!” she cried. “Mother, look how beautifully they are set on! I'd much rather have them than those from the store.”
“So would I,” said Mrs. Comstock.