Part 2 (1/2)
Sometimes the two ladies, by reason of their age, found it possible to combine with good results.
”Your daughter Diantha is one woman in a thousand,” said Grandmother Wheeler, diplomatically, one day, ”but she never did care much for clothes.”
”Diantha,” returned Grandmother Stark, with a suspicious glance, ”always realized that clothes were not the things that mattered.”
”And, of course, she is right,” said Grandmother Wheeler, piously.
”Your Diantha is one woman in a thousand. If she cared as much for fine clothes as some women, I don't know where we should all be. It would spoil poor little Amelia.”
”Yes, it would,” a.s.sented Grandmother Stark. ”Nothing spoils a little girl more than always to be thinking about her clothes.”
”Yes, I was looking at Amelia the other day, and thinking how much more sensible she appeared in her plain gingham than Lily Jennings in all her ruffles and ribbons. Even if people were all noticing Lily, and praising her, thinks I to myself, 'How little difference such things really make.
Even if our dear Amelia does stand to one side, and n.o.body notices her, what real matter is it?'” Grandmother Wheeler was inwardly chuckling as she spoke.
Grandmother Stark was at once alert. ”Do you mean to say that Amelia is really not taken so much notice of because she dresses plainly?” said she.
”You don't mean that you don't know it, as observant as you are?”
replied Grandmother Wheeler.
”Diantha ought not to let it go as far as that,” said Grandmother Stark.
Grandmother Wheeler looked at her queerly. ”Why do you look at me like that?”
”Well, I did something I feared I ought not to have done. And I didn't know what to do, but your speaking so makes me wonder--”
”Wonder what?”
Then Grandmother Wheeler went to her little storeroom and emerged bearing a box. She displayed the contents--three charming little white frocks fluffy with lace and embroidery.
”Did you make them?”
”Yes, I did. I couldn't help it. I thought if the dear child never wore them, it would be some comfort to know they were in the house.”
”That one needs a broad blue sash,” said Grandmother Stark.
Grandmother Wheeler laughed. She took her impecuniosity easily. ”I had to use what I had,” said she.
”I will get a blue sash for that one,” said Grandmother Stark, ”and a pink sash for that, and a flowered one for that.”
”Of course they will make all the difference,” said Grandmother Wheeler.
”Those beautiful sashes will really make the dresses.”
”I will get them,” said Grandmother Stark, with decision. ”I will go right down to Mann Brothers' store now and get them.”
”Then I will make the bows, and sew them on,” replied Grandmother Wheeler, happily.
It thus happened that little Amelia Wheeler was possessed of three beautiful dresses, although she did not know it.
For a long time neither of the two conspiring grandmothers dared divulge the secret. Mrs. Diantha was a very determined woman, and even her own mother stood somewhat in awe of her. Therefore, little Amelia went to school during the spring term soberly clad as ever, and even on the festive last day wore nothing better than a new blue gingham, made too long, to allow for shrinkage, and new blue hair-ribbons. The two grandmothers almost wept in secret conclave over the lovely frocks which were not worn.