Part 20 (2/2)
”That's all right. They're done now. I didn't do them, either. Let's go down-stairs and wash up.”
”I don't want to be pretty,” Priscilla objected, continuing to rock.
Gertrude neither moved nor spoke again.
What should Elliott do? She remembered Bruce.
”We haven't had any telegram, you know,” she said. n.o.body spoke.
”Well, then, we were three little geese, weren't we? Not having had a telegram means a lot just now.” Priscilla stopped rocking.
”I'm going to believe Sidney will get well,” Elliott continued. It was hard work to talk to such unresponsive ears, but she kept right on.
”And now I am going down-stairs to put on one of my prettiest dresses, so as to look cheerful for supper. You may try whether you can get into that blue dress of mine you like so much, Trudy. I'm going to let Priscilla wear my coral beads.”
”The pink ones?” asked Priscilla.
”The pink ones. They will be just a match for your pink dress.”
”I don't feel like dressing up,” said Gertrude.
Elliott felt like clapping her hands. She had roused Trudy to speech.
”Then wear something of your own,” she said stanchly. ”It doesn't matter what we wear, so long as we look nice.”
Mercurial Priscilla was already feeling the new note in the air.
Elliott wouldn't talk so, would she, if Sidney really were not going to get well? And yet there was Gertrude, who didn't seem to feel cheered up a bit. Pris's little heart was torn.
Elliott tried one last argument. ”I think Mother Jess would like to have us do it for Father Bob and the boys' sake--to help keep up their courage.”
Priscilla bounced out of the rocker. ”Will it help keep up their courage for us to wear our pretty clothes?”
”I had a notion it might.”
”Let's do it, Trudy. I--I think I feel better already.”
Gertrude sat up on the horsehair sofa. ”Maybe Mother would like us to.”
”I'm sure she'd like us to keep on hoping,” said Elliott earnestly.
”And it doesn't matter what we do, so long as we do something to show that's the way we've made up our minds to feel. If you can think of any better way to show it than by dressing up, Trudy--”
”No,” said Gertrude. ”But I think I'll wear my own clothes to-day, Elliott. Thank you, just the same. Some day, if Sid--I mean some day I'll love to try on your blue dress, if you will let me.”
Three girls, as pretty and chic and trim as nature and the contents of their closets could make them, sat down to supper that night. It was not a jolly meal, but the girls set the pace, and every one did his best to be cheerful and brave.
Half-way through supper Stannard laid down his fork to ask a question.
”What's happened to your hair, Trudy?”
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