“And you mind still?” ruefully shaking her head from side to side.
“Yes, Courage; I shall always mind, as you call it, but I am no longer miserable and unhappy—that is, not very often, and one reason is that all you little girls here in the school have grown so dear to me. But about the coat; you must surely keep it. I scarcely believe your father would like to have seen his little girl all in black; and besides, black does not seem to belong with that brave little name of yours.”
Courage stood gazing into Miss Julia's face with a puzzled look in her eyes, as though facing the troublesome question. Then suddenly diving again into her spacious pocket—a feature to be relied upon in connection with Mary Duffs dressmaking—and evidently discovering what she sought, she said, eagerly: “Miss Julia, will you wait here a moment?”
“Certainly, dear; but what are you up to?” Courage, however, had no time to explain, and with the blue coat flying out behind her, darted from the chapel, across the street, into a little thread-and-needle store, and was back again in a flash, carrying a thin flimsy package. Hastily unwrapping it, she disclosed a yard of black ribbon, which she thrust into Miss Julia's hands.
“What is this for, Courage?”
In her excitement Courage simply extended her left arm with a “Tie it round, please,” indicating the place with her right hand. Miss Julia wonderingly did as she was bid.
“You tie a lovely bow,” said Courage, twisting her neck to get a look at it. “You know why I have it, don't you?” Miss Julia looked doubtful. “It's my mourning for papa. I have seen soldiers with something black tied round their arms because some other soldier had died, haven't you?”