“Going away, and to live on a boat! why, how is that, Courage?” and then as Courage explained all the plans, and how she was to spend the whole summer out on the bay with “Larry, the goodest man that ever was,” her sad little face gradually grew bright again.
“Look here,” said Miss Julia, after they had been talking a long while together, “I am sure”—and then she paused and looked Courage over quite carefully—- “yes, I am sure I have something that will be just the thing for you now that you are to be so much on the water; wait here for a moment,” and going into a little room that opened from the chapel, she immediately returned with something in her hands that made Courage open her eyes for wonder. It was a beautiful astrachan-trimmed blue coat, with a wide-brimmed hat to match. They had belonged to a little niece of Miss Julia's—a little niece who no longer had need for any earth-made garment, and so here they were in Miss Julia's hands awaiting some new child-ownership.
She had already thought of Courage Masterson as one to whom they would prove not only useful but becoming, and yet had feared to excite the envy of the other children. But if Courage was going away, that settled it; she should have them; for in that case her less fortunate little sisters need never be the wiser. So Miss Julia gladly held them up to view, for she dearly loved little Courage, while Courage, incredulous, exclaimed: “For me? Oh, Miss Julia!” and proceeded to don the coat and hat with the alacrity of a little maid appreciative of their special prettiness. Then what did the little witch do but run post-haste to the rear of the chapel, mount the high and slippery organ-bench, and have a peep into the mirror above it. Miss Julia could not keep from smiling, but said, as she came running back: “It does look nicely on you, Courage, but you must not let it make you vain, darling.”
“Was it vain to want to see how it looked?”
“No, Courage; I don't believe it was.”
“I'm glad I did see just once, though, because, Miss Julia, I guess it will not do for me to have it,” and Courage reluctantly began to unfasten the pretty buttons.
“Not do for you to have it! Why, Courage dear, what do you mean?”
“It is so bright-looking, Miss Julia. Even this curly black stuff doesn't darken it much (admiringly smoothing the astrachan trimming with both little hands), and one of the girls said to-day in the class that 'orphans as had any heart always wore black.' At any rate, she said she shouldn't think if I had loved my father very much I'd wear a gay ribbon like this in my hair,” whereupon Courage produced a crumpled red bow from the recesses of a pocket to which it had been summarily banished; “So, of course, Miss Julia, it would be dreadful to wear a blue coat like this. It's queer Mary Duff never told me about orphans wearing black always.”
“But they do not always wear it, Courage. It seems sad to me to see a child in black, and I think Mary Duff did just right in not putting you into mourning.”
“Into mourning?” queried Courage.