“Que asco! There, Sarah, you’ve made me say that. You didn’t suppose I meant anybody’s things but my own? I’ve got heaps of ribbons and pretty collars that I don’t need.”
Blue Bonnet led the way upstairs to her own room, turning on the light, throwing open her bureau drawers with an impetuosity that quite took Sarah’s breath away.
She soon had a little pile of ribbons, laces, and the odds and ends of finery that girls love, in the center of her bed.
“Oh, Blue Bonnet,” Sarah asked, “can you really spare all these?”
“Of course; there’ll be just so much less to take care of, and I can get more. But if I couldn’t, I shouldn’t mind. Sarah, do you suppose she wears gloves?”
“Why, of course!”
“Then I’m going to send all mine but two pairs—I hate to wear gloves! I’d send them all, only I suppose Aunt Lucinda would make me buy more—for church.”
“Blue Bonnet!”
“Sarah Blake, if you’re going to sit there and Blue Bonnet me—in a way that means ‘Elizabeth’—you can go downstairs until I get this bundle made up. It’ll save a lot of trouble—packing this stuff off. You see, Aunt Lucinda’s motto is—‘A box for everything and everything in its box.’”
Sarah was smoothing out the soft bright ribbons almost affectionately; new ribbons were a luxury at the parsonage. “How fond you are of red, Blue Bonnet!”