"When you think he's making faces, he's only smiling, I tell you," said Indiana. "He's a fine guide; what more do you want?"
"Wear your red dress to-night, Indiana," said Mrs. Bunker, ignoring this last remark.
"I think white is so much prettier for a young girl," suggested Mrs. Stillwater.
"Yes, that's the conventional thing," said Mrs. Bunker. "Well, let her look like a bread and butter miss—I have no objection."
"I don't want to look like a bread and butter miss," interrupted Indiana.
"Wear what your mother wishes, Indiana."
"Oh, I'm satisfied with anything," apologetically murmured Mrs. Stillwater. "Let the child please herself." She looked questioningly at her daughter. The latter, looking very self-important, declined to commit herself just then.
"Take your finger out of your mouth, Indiana," said Mrs. Bunker, sharply. "It's time you stopped that baby habit."
Indiana, whenever she was making a decision of any kind, still put her finger in her mouth as a help to thought.
Later, in her granddaughter's room, Mrs. Bunker said in the voice of an oracle. "Take my advice and wear your red silk, Indiana."