“Can't you get her a new ribbon or something, mother?” he asked.
“Maybe a new sash,” answered mother reflectively. “They've got some pretty brocaded pink ribbon at Bonner's.”
After which Missy finished her breakfast in a rapture. It is queer how you can eat, and like what you eat very much, and yet scarcely taste it at all.
When the two hours of practicing were over, mother sent her down town to buy the ribbon for the sash—a pleasant errand. She changed the black tie on her middy blouse to a scarlet one and let the ends fly out of her grey waterproof cape. Why is it that red is such a divine colour on a rainy day?
Upon her return there was still an hour before dinner, and she sat by the dining-room window with Aunt Nettie, to darn stockings.
“Well, Missy,” said Aunt Nettie presently, “a penny for your thoughts.”
Missy looked up vaguely, at a loss. “I wasn't thinking of anything exactly,” she said.
“What were you smiling about?”
“Was I smiling?”
Just then mother entered and Aunt Nettie said: “Missy smiles, and doesn't know it. Party!”