The next morning Miss Atkinson was told of the new plan. Her faded eyes opened twice as widely as usual. She was not sure she heard aright.
"Do you mean to say Miss Kathie, that you undertake, with your mamma's full consent, to clothe Alice until she is through school?"
"That is precisely what I bind myself to do," Kathie answered, gravely copying the solemnity of the little dress-maker.
"Then all I have to say is, bless you, and bless the Lord. You never can tell what good you're doing."
And then the poor little woman began to cry, just for pure joy; and she sobbed till Mamma Mason felt her eyes growing misty, and Kathie ran away out of the room.
Be sure that Miss Atkinson made up Kathie's muslin lovingly. It would not be her fault if it were not prettier than any silk. And truly, when Christmas Eve came and Kathie was dressed for Aunt Jane's party, there could hardly have been a more radiant vision than this white-robed shape with the sunny, soft hair, the gleaming brown eyes, and the wild-rose cheeks, where the color came and went. Her father looked her over with all his heart in his eyes, and a tenderness which quivered in his voice, though he tried to speak jestingly.
"So there wasn't blue sky enough for any thing but your sash, and you had to take white clouds for the rest."
"Just that. Don't you like the clouds?"
He bent and kissed her.