Later, when Dr. Johns had gone to his office at the Main Building, Aunt Kate called Betsy in, and together they mounted to the third floor, where was a cosy sewing-room, with a high north light. On a couch lay a number of pieces of cloth.
“My, aren’t they pretty!” said Betsy.
“We are going to make some simple frocks for you. Mrs. Allston is coming to-day to help.”
“For me? Why, I’m in mournin’ for Ma.”
“People—little girls—wear white, even when they are in mourning, and we can save the colored ones till a little later, if you prefer.”
“The pink’s the prettiest. It looks like the wild roses in our back lot. But I shall have to wait. Oh, well, I ain’t never had even a white dress before. I can help you sew. I know how.”
“Do you? Why, that’s fine! Now here are some underclothes for you to put on. I want you to be all ready when Mrs. Allston comes to help us sew.”
“These things? They got lace on.”
“Yes.”
“Why, I’d tear ’em to bits, climbin’ trees.”