“Yes; into black dresses, I mean, because some one had died.”
Courage looked critically at Miss Julia, noticing for the first time that her dress was black, and that even the little pin at her throat was black, too.
“Why, Miss Julia,” she said, her voice fairly trembling with the surprise of the discovery, “you are in mourning!”
“Yes, Courage.”
“And did somebody die, Miss Julia?”
“Some one I loved very much.”
“Long ago?” and Courage came close to the low bench, and lovingly laid her hand upon Miss Julia's shoulder.
“Yes, very long ago.”
“Not your father or mother, was it?”
“No, darling.”