She thought of them this afternoon. If the little girls would only let her comb their hair and wash their faces and hands, she would put on the new dresses. She had not intended to present them in that way, but dresses as soiled and faded and worn as those the little sisters had on, Nettie Decker had never worn.
She opened the trunk, with both children beside her, watching, and drew out the dresses.
"Aren't these almost as pretty as red ones?" she asked, as she unfolded them, and displayed the dainty ruffles.
"No," said Susie, "not near so pretty as red ones. But then they are pretty. They aren't dresses at all; they are aprons. Are they for you to wear?"
"No," said Nettie, "they are for two little girls to wear, who have their hair combed beautifully, and their hands and faces very clean."
"Do you mean us?"
"I do if the description fits. I can think just how nice you would look if your faces were clean and your hair was combed."
"We will put on the aprons," said Susie firmly, "but we won't have our hair combed, nor our faces washed, and you need not try it."
But Miss Susie found that this new sister had as strong a will as she. The trunk lid went down with a click, and Nettie rose up.