The woman's voice was tremulous with indignation or grief, and all at once Amy remembered. Then she sprang from her cosy nest, wide-awake and full of courage.
"Hush, dear old Goodsoul, I forgot. I forgot, entirely. I was dreaming of Fairacres. It was a beautiful dream. The old house was full of little children and young girls. They were singing and laughing and moving about everywhere. I can hardly believe it wasn't real; but, I'm all right now. I'll be down stairs in a few minutes. Don't wake anybody else, for there's no need. Is it six o'clock already? It might be midnight or—any time. Why, what's this?"
"A frock I've made for you, child."
"You made a frock for me? Why, Cleena!"
"Sure, it's not so handy with the needle as the broom me fingers is. But what for no? Them pretty white ones will never do for the nasty old mill. This didn't need so much. The body'll about fit, thinks I, if I sew it fast in the front an' split it behind. The skirt's not so very long. She was a mite of a woman, God rest her. Well, I'll go an' see the milk doesn't boil over, an' be back in a jiffy to fasten it for you. Ah, me lamb! Troth, a spirit's brave like your own will be prospered, I know."
Then Cleena went hurriedly out of the room. The frock which she had prepared for Amy's use in the mill was remodelled from an old one of her mistress's. As has been said, Amy had never worn any sort of dress except white. The fabric was changed to suit the season, but the color was not. Even her warm winter cloak was of heavy white wool, faced here and there with scarlet, to match the simple scarlet headgear that suited her dark face so well. Quite against the habits of her own upbringing, Mrs. Kaye had clothed her daughter to please the taste of her artist husband, and therefore it had not greatly mattered that this taste dictated a style more fanciful than useful.
Now everything was altered, and Cleena had consulted Mrs. Jones with the result just given. But from a true delicacy, the faithful old servant did not stay to watch the girl as she adopted the new garb which belonged to the new fortunes, though she need not have been afraid.
For a moment Amy held the gray dress in her hand, feeling it almost a sacrilege to put it on. She remembered it as the morning gown of her mother, plain to the extreme, yet graceful and precious in her sight because of the dear wearer. Then she lifted the garment to her lips, and touched it lightly.
"Mother, darling, it is a good beginning. It seems to me it is like a sister of mercy putting on her habit for the first time. It is a protection and a benediction. If I can only put on my mother's beautiful character with her clothing, I shall do well, indeed." Then she examined the alterations which Cleena had been instructed by the cottager to make, and was able to smile at them.
"The new sewing and the old do not match very well, but it will answer, and it does fit me much better than I would have thought. My! but I must already be as large, or nearly so, as she was. Well, no time for thinking back now. It's all looking forward, and must be, if I am to keep my courage."