"I should think you would have," Peggy said, again.
"It was pretty brave of you to go into a house where they had scarlet fever, and nurse your grandmother through it," Elizabeth said. "Weren't you deadly afraid?"
"I don't remember much about that part. My father sent me, and so I went, but I shall never forget the day when I first put on the dress. Your grandfather he was calling on my brother Jonas when I come down the stairs drawing my train after me. Jonas he started to stare at me, and then he began to say poetry. An old poem he used to say whenever he wanted to tease me:
"Here she goes, there she goes, All dressed up in her Sunday clothes, High-heeled boots and a cashmere shawl, Grecian bend and a waterfall.
I was so put out, I run upstairs and didn't come down again till he coaxed me down with the promise of a drive to Bass River by moonlight."
"But how about Grandfather? You said that was the very dress he proposed to you in."
"So t'was."
"Did he propose that evening?"
"No, he didn't. I was so put out at Jonas that I wouldn't have a word to say to your grandpa for a whole week."
"That was hard on Grandfather."