“Oh, grandma, doesn’t she look like a real little piece of porcelain?” cried the delighted Persis. “Oh, Annis, I could eat you with a spoon!”
“Now, I know where you got that expression,” laughed Annis. “It sounds like Connie.”
“So it does. How do I look, Annis?”
“Fine,” responded Annis, heartily. “Just a puff more white on top of your head. Your hair is so dark that we have had to use the greatest quantity of powder on it. Shouldn’t you like to know where these gowns were first worn?”
“I can tell you,” said grandma. “The one you have on was worn by my Grandmother Carter at a ball given in honor of Lafayette, and the one Persis wears was my Grandmother Herrick’s, which she wore to some festivity at the time of Washington’s inauguration.”
“Doesn’t that make them precious?” said Persis, passing her fingers lightly over the rich fabric. “And these gold beads?” she questioned, putting her hand to her throat.
“They were given to me by my only sister, Mary Carter,” replied grandma, with a little sigh; “and as your Aunt Esther always fancied them I finally gave them to her.”
“How good of her to loan them,” said Persis, looking grave. “Come, Annis, we must put on our cloaks.”
But Annis was gazing very thoughtfully at the miniature she held in her hand. “How strange!” she said, lifting her eyes to Grandmother Estabrook. “My grandmother’s name was Mary Carter. See, here she is.”
Mrs. Estabrook’s hand trembled as she eagerly took the little miniature held out to her. Then her lips quivered and the tears came to her eyes. “Mary! Mary!” she said; “it is truly your own dear face.”