“I might be doing something worse,” replied her mother with a smile. “Don’t worry over that, my dear. If we can find anything to eke out I shall be only too glad to do the sewing and Kathie can help.”
Presently Kathie returned with some things hanging over her arm. “I am afraid there is nothing among my things that will match the lace on the waist,” she said, “but we can see.” Then followed an attempt at matching, much discussion and suggestion, but finally one after another garment was discarded. Kathie sat with knitted brows, pinching her lips and turning over the remainder of Elizabeth’s frocks. The least attractive frock seemed the only possible one; it was a plain little dimity which nobody regarded with much favor.
“I’m in despair,” said Elizabeth plaintively. “I hate not to look as nice as the others.”
“I hate it, too,” said her mother, “but I do not see anything else to do.”
“I will lend you my gold beads,” said Kathie comfortingly, “and I will look among my ribbons to see if I can find anything that will do for your hair. I wish you had some pretty slippers and stockings; they would add a great deal.”
“I have white stockings, and those white canvas slippers. I suppose they will have to do.”
“I will clean the shoes,” Kathie offered, “and they will not look badly.”
She picked up the dimity frock and began to rip out the hem.
Elizabeth watched her with anything but enthusiasm. It did seem hard luck that the very prettiest of her frocks must be the one that she could not wear. Presently Kathie threw down her work and went out of the room. Just then Miss Jewett was announced. “I could not rest till I learned whether you had your invitation to the party, Elizabeth,” she said, “I found out this morning from Mrs. Ferguson that by all rights you should have had it and I hoped she had sent it.”
“She did send it right away, by Betsy,” Elizabeth told her. “Did you have a good time, Miss Jewett? I am so glad you have come back.”