Her face lighted with pleasure.
“Please, if I may be so bold as to make the request, wear something not quite so somber as this,” and he just touched the black dress.
Her face grew very sad, and her eyes filled with tears. Miss Douglas had been dead just two months, and the thought of gay attire seemed unsuitable to her.
“Forgive me if I pain you, but I would like to see you for once as bright as the others,” the young man added, and then passed on.
She knew her black dress would not be suitable for the opera, and yet she hesitated about changing it for two reasons.
Her own feelings rebelled against it, as if it were doing a wrong to Miss Mehetabel.
“And yet,” she said, thinking it over, “I know auntie would not wish me to deprive myself of the pleasure of attending the opera, and I know, also, she would not like me to appear in such a place in black.”
The other reason was the fear of displeasing Mrs. Coolidge if she made any change.
But that matter was settled for her by that lady herself. She came to her room during the day, repeating the invitation which Wilbur had given her, and concluded by saying:
“Miss Douglas, have you not something a little more appropriate that you could wear? This black is hardly the thing.”