Mary felt instinctively that her companion was attracting more attention than her bonnet; and twitching her dress bade her sit down. Sal obeyed; but she had no opportunity that morning of deciding whether the sermon were grammatical or not, for she was constantly on the look out, and whenever she saw any one scrutinizing Mary or herself more closely than they ought, a shake of her fist and a horrid face warned them to desist. Twice during church time Mary thought, nay felt sure that she caught her sister's eye, but it was quickly withdrawn, as if unwilling to be recognized.
When church was out, Sal insisted upon going down immediately; so they descended together to the porch below, reaching it just as Mrs. Campbell appeared in the doorway. Had she chosen, Mary could have touched the lady's dress as she passed; but she rather shrank from being seen, and would probably not have been observed at all, had not Sal planted herself directly in front of Mrs. Campbell, saying loudly enough for all near her to hear, "Madam, do you not recognize your munificent gift of charity in yonder amazing bonnet?" at the same time pointing towards Mary, who nervously grasped the strings of her hat, as if to remove the offensive article.
Mrs. Campbell haughtily pushed Sal aside, and advancing towards the child, said, "I am glad to see you at church Mary, and hope you will now come regularly. You can accompany Ella home after the Sabbath school, if you like."
The words and manner were so cold and formal, that Mary was obliged to force down her tears before she replied, that she was going to her mother's grave, and wanted Ella to go with her.
"It is pretty warm to walk so far, but if Ella wishes it she has my permission. Only tell her not to get red and heated," said Mrs. Campbell; and gathering up the folds of her rich silk, the texture of which Sal Furbush had been examining, and comparing with her own plum-color, she walked away.
Scarcely was she gone, when Jenny Lincoln came tripping up, and seizing both Mary's hands, exclaimed, "I am real glad you are here. I thought you hadn't come, until I heard them talking about a crazy woman. But let's go to my class, and you'll have a chance to see Ella while the scholars are getting their seats."
Mary accompanied her young friend to a pew, at the door of which she met her sister face to face. There was a sudden exclamation of joy on Mary's part, and an attempt to throw her arms around Ella's neck, but the little girl drew back, and merely offering her hand, said, "Oh, it's you, isn't it? I didn't know you, you looked so queer."
"Heavens! what a head-dress! Big as our carriage top any day!" was the next exclamation which reached Mary's ear, as Rose Lincoln brushed past. Glancing from her sister to Rose, Mary half determined to tear the bonnet from her head and trample it under her feet, but Jenny softly squeezed her hand, and whispered, "Don't mind what Rose says; I love you, and so does Billy Bender. I saw him in the village yesterday, and asked him if he didn't, and he said he did."
It required more than Billy Bender's love to soothe Mary then. Her sister's cool reception, so different from what she had anticipated, had stung her heart; and sitting down near the door, she burst into a passionate fit of tears. Jenny, who was really distressed, occasionally pressed her hand in token of sympathy, at the same time offering her cloves, peanuts and sugar-plums. There was a brighter flush, too, than usual, on Ella's cheek, for she knew that she had done wrong, and she so jumbled together the words of her lesson, that the teacher made her repeat it twice, asking her what was the matter.
By the time Sabbath school was over, Mary had dried her tears; and determining to make one more advance towards her sister, she said, "Won't you go to mother's grave with me? I want to tell you about little Allie. I have taught her to call your name most as plain as I can."