The night before she left, Rose "costumed" for the benefit of the entire family, who were assembled in the long-room, together with Aunt Tryphosa and Maria-Ann, to see Rose in her finery.
"I 'll make it a climax," said Rose, laughing half-shamefacedly, as she slipped upstairs to change her street suit, which had brought forth admiring "Ohs" and "Ahs" from the children, and favorable criticism from their elders.
Down she came in her white serge; there were nods and smiles of approval.
Her reappearance in the wash silk and velvet turban was the signal, on March's part, for a burst of applause, and cries of admiration from Budd and Cherry.
"Grand transformation scene!" cried March, as Rose tripped down in the blue taffeta, looking like a very rose herself.
"Beats all!" murmured Chi, who had become nearly speechless with admiration, "what clothes 'll do for a good-lookin' woman; but for a ravin', tearin' beauty like our Rose--George Washin'ton! She 'll open those high-flyers' eyes."
"Cinderella--fifth act!" shouted March as, after a prolonged wait, he heard Rose on the stairs.
But was it Rose?
The beautiful India mull of her mother's had been transformed into a ball-dress. She had drawn on her long white gloves and tucked into the simple, ribbon belt three of Jack's Christmas roses.
Maria-Ann gasped, and that broke the, to Rose, somewhat embarrassing silence.