"What put the notion into your head?" queried Aunt Matilda, with the air of one athirst for knowledge.
A Surprise Party
"Why—nothing," the girl stammered, "except that—when I was looking at mother's things the other day, up in the attic, I found some pink ribbon, and I thought it would be pretty with grey, and if I had a grey dress——"
The other two exchanged glances. "Ain't it wonderful," asked Matilda of her mother, "how blood will tell?"
"It certainly is," responded Grandmother, polishing her spectacles vigorously with a corner of the plaid shawl. "Your ma," she went on, to Rosemary, "was wearin' grey when your pa brought her here to visit us. They was a surprise party—both of 'em. We didn't even know he was plannin' marriage and I don't believe he was, either. We've always thought your ma roped him into it, somehow."
Rosemary's eyes filled with mist and she bit her lips.
"She was wearin' grey," continued Aunt Matilda; "light grey that would show every spot. I told her it wasn't a very serviceable colour and she had the impudence to laugh at me. 'It'll clean, won't it?' she says, just like that, and Frank says, right after her, 'Yes, it'll clean.' He knew a lot about it, he did. She had psychologised him."
"You mean hypnotised," interrupted Grandmother. "There ain't no such word as 'psychologised.'"
Resentment
"Well, if there ain't, there ought to be."