Her hat was off in a moment and the sad little bonnet put on over her pretty curls.
“It fits exactly!” she cried, making a little moue at her image reflected in an antique gilt mirror. Antique mirrors were among the wares the Higgledy Piggledies dealt in.
Mary Louise was off in a jiffy, eager to make the purchase and get to work. It made her happier to have something definite to occupy her until she could get the doctor’s verdict concerning her grandfather and, also, until she could have the heart to heart talk she was planning to have with her Danny.
Irene shook her head sadly when her dear friend’s eager footsteps died away as she flew down the stairs to the street.
“Dear, dear child,” she said solemnly. “I do wish she had not tried on that queer old mourning bonnet.”
“It gave me a turn too,” confessed Josie.
“I wondered if you felt funny about it,” said Elizabeth. “My old nurse used to tell us that it was the worst luck in the world to try on mourning unless you were already wearing it. Of course, she was an ignorant old woman but she used to say it was a sure sign of trouble coming. Were you thinking of that, Irene?”
“I am ashamed to say I was. Under those wretched widow’s weeds there was something about her sweet face, that certainly has been pale and pensive lately, that made me feel strangely superstitious—but I hate myself for giving it room in my mind.”