Marshalled by March, the whole family formed a procession, and Rose was reviewed:--back breadths, front breadths, flounces, waist, gloves; all were thoroughly inspected.
Chi touched the lower flounce of the half-train gingerly with one work-roughened forefinger, then, straightening himself suddenly, sighed heavily.
"What's the matter, Chi?" Rose laughed at the dubious expression on his face.
"You ain't Rose Blossom nor Molly Stark any longer. You 're just a regular Empress of Rooshy, 'n' you don't look like that girl I took along to sell berries down to Barton's last summer, 'n' I wish you--" he hesitated.
"What, Chi?" said Rose.
"I wish you was back again, old sunbonnet, old calico gown, patched shoes 'n' all--"
"Oh, Chi, no, you don't," said Rose, laughing merrily; "you forget, I shall probably see Miss Seaton down there in New York, and you wouldn't want me to appear a second time before her in that old rig."
"You 're right, Rose-pose," replied Chi, his expression brightening visibly. He drew close to her and whispered audibly:
"Just sail right in, Molly Stark, 'n' cut that sassy girl out right 'n' left. She never could hold a candle to you."
"Sh-sh, Chi!" said Mrs. Blossom, meaningly, but with a twinkle in her eye.