"It's very pretty," she said slowly. "I don't think you need to cover your ears so completely, do you? The style is too old for you, though. You look—much older."
Blue Bonnet drew a sigh of relief. This was so mild to what she had expected. She glanced in Grandmother's direction.
There was a far-away expression in Mrs. Clyde's eyes, as if she were looking beyond Blue Bonnet—back into the shadowy past. She was: Blue Bonnet with her brown hair coiled low, curling about her neck and brow, was her mother over again—a perfect replica.
Miss Clyde noticed it, also, and when Blue Bonnet and Carita went up-stairs she spoke of it.
"How Blue Bonnet grows to resemble her mother. Do you remember, Elizabeth wore her hair that way when she first began putting it up? The child grows to be more of a Clyde every day."
"We're going out to see Chula," Blue Bonnet announced, coming back after she had put her things away.
"Chula? Why, dear, didn't Aunt Lucinda write you that Chula is out at pasture? She was eating her head off in the barn, and with no one to exercise her—"
Blue Bonnet looked disappointed.
"Of course," she said, "she must have just gorged. I can quite fancy; but I did want to see her."
She laid the apples she had begged from Katie on the tea-table.