“There wasn't, except a prize-fight, and I don't care anything about prize-fights, and I believe there were races, too, but I don't know anything about races.”
“I don't see that you know very much about marriage and divorce,” Maria said, adjusting her collar.
“Are you angry with me, sister? Don't you want me to fasten your collar?”
“No, I can fasten it myself, thank you, dear. No, I am not angry with you, only I do wish you wouldn't read such stuff. Put the paper away, and get a book instead.”
“I will if you want me to, sister,” replied Evelyn.
Chapter XXXI
The Monday when the fall term of the academy at Westbridge opened was a very beautiful day. The air was as soft as summer, but with a strange, pungent quality which the summer had lacked. There was a slightly smoky scent which exhilarated. It was a scent of death coming from bonfires of dead leaves and drying vegetation, and yet it seemed to presage life. When Maria and Evelyn went out to take the trolley for Westbridge, Maria wore a cluster of white chrysanthemums pinned to her blouse. The blouse itself was a very pretty one, worn with a black plaited skirt. It was a soft silk of an old-rose shade, and it was trimmed with creamy lace. Maria had left off her mourning. Evelyn looked with a little surprise at Maria's blouse.
“Why, you've got on your pink blouse, sister,” she said.
Maria colored softly, for no ostensible reason. “Yes,” she said.
“You don't generally wear it to school.”