“Now, the idea is to let it stand naturally, just as the curl will make it. Don't you do any of that nasty, untidy snarling, Elnora,” cautioned Margaret. “Wash it this way every two weeks while you are in school, shake it out, and dry it. Then part it in the middle and turn a front quarter on each side from your face. You tie the back at your neck with a string—so, and the ribbon goes in a big, loose bow. I'll show you.” One after another Margaret Sinton tied the ribbons, creasing each of them so they could not be returned, as she explained that she was trying to find the colour most becoming. Then she produced the raincoat which carried Elnora into transports.
Mrs. Comstock objected. “That won't be warm enough for cold weather, and you can't afford it and a coat, too.”
“I'll tell you what I thought,” said Elnora. “I was planning on the way home. These coats are fine because they keep you dry. I thought I would get one, and a warm sweater to wear under it cold days. Then I always would be dry, and warm. The sweater only costs three dollars, so I could get it and the raincoat both for half the price of a heavy cloth coat.”
“You are right about that,” said Mrs. Comstock. “You can change more with the weather, too. Keep the raincoat, Elnora.”
“Wear it until you try the hat,” said Margaret. “It will have to do until the dress is finished.”
Elnora picked up the hat dubiously. “Mother, may I wear my hair as it is now?” she asked.
“Let me take a good look,” said Katharine Comstock.
Heaven only knows what she saw. To Wesley and to Margaret the bright young face of Elnora, with its pink tints, its heavy dark brows, its bright blue-gray eyes, and its frame of curling reddish-brown hair was the sweetest sight on earth, and at that instant Elnora was radiant.
“So long as it's your own hair, and combed back as plain as it will go, I don't suppose it cuts much ice whether it's tied a little tighter or looser,” conceded Mrs. Comstock. “If you stop right there, you may let it go at that.”
Elnora set the hat on her head. It was only a wide tan straw with three exquisite peacock quills at one side. Margaret Sinton cried out, Wesley slapped his knee and sighed deeply while Mrs. Comstock stood speechless for a second.
“I wish you had asked the price before you put that on,” she said impatiently. “We never can afford it.”
“It's not so much as you think,” said Margaret. “Don't you see what I did? I had them take off the quills, and put on some of those Phoebe Simms gave me from her peacocks. The hat will only cost you a dollar and a half.”
She avoided Wesley's eyes, and looked straight at Mrs. Comstock. Elnora removed the hat to examine it.
“Why, they are those reddish-tan quills of yours!” she cried. “Mother, look how beautifully they are set on! I'd much rather have them than those from the store.”
“So would I,” said Mrs. Comstock. “If Margaret wants to spare them, that will make you a beautiful hat; dirt cheap, too! You must go past Mrs. Simms and show her. She would be pleased to see them.”
Elnora sank into a chair and contemplated her toe. “Landy, ain't I a queen?” she murmured. “What else have I got?”
“Just a belt, some handkerchiefs, and a pair of top shoes for rainy days and colder weather,” said Margaret.
“About those high shoes, that was my idea,” said Wesley. “Soon as it rains, low shoes won't do, and by taking two pairs at once I could get them some cheaper. The low ones are two and the high ones two fifty, together three seventy-five. Ain't that cheap?”
“That's a real bargain,” said Mrs. Comstock, “if they are good shoes, and they look it.”
“This,” said Wesley, producing the last package, “is your Christmas present from your Aunt Maggie. I got mine, too, but it's at the house. I'll bring it up in the morning.”
He handed Margaret the umbrella, and she passed it over to Elnora who opened it and sat laughing under its shelter. Then she kissed both of them. She brought a pencil and a slip of paper to set down the prices they gave her of everything they had brought except the umbrella, added the sum, and said laughingly: “Will you please wait till to-morrow for the money? I will have it then, sure.”
“Elnora,” said Wesley Sinton. “Wouldn't you——”
“Elnora, hustle here a minute!” called Mrs. Comstock from the kitchen. “I need you!”
“One second, mother,” answered Elnora, throwing off the coat and hat, and closing the umbrella as she ran. There were several errands to do in a hurry, and then supper. Elnora chattered incessantly, Wesley and Margaret talked all they could, while Mrs. Comstock said a word now and then, which was all she ever did. But Wesley Sinton was watching her, and time and again he saw a peculiar little twist around her mouth. He knew that for the first time in sixteen years she really was laughing over something. She had all she could do to preserve her usually sober face. Wesley knew what she was thinking.
After supper the dress was finished, the pattern for the next one discussed, and then the Sintons went home. Elnora gathered her treasures. When she started upstairs she stopped. “May I kiss you good-night, mother?” she asked lightly.
“Never mind any slobbering,” said Mrs. Comstock. “I should think you'd lived with me long enough to know that I don't care for it.”
“Well, I'd love to show you in some way how happy I am, and how I thank you.”
“I wonder what for?” said Mrs. Comstock. “Mag Sinton chose that stuff and brought it here and you pay for it.”
“Yes, but you seemed willing for me to have it, and you said you would help me if I couldn't pay all.”
“Maybe I did,” said Mrs. Comstock. “Maybe I did. I meant to get you some heavy dress skirts about Thanksgiving, and I still can get them. Go to bed, and for any sake don't begin mooning before a mirror, and make a dunce of yourself.”
Mrs. Comstock picked up several papers and blew out the kitchen light. She stood in the middle of the sitting-room floor for a time and then went into her room and closed the door. Sitting on the edge of the bed she thought for a few minutes and then suddenly buried her face in the pillow and again heaved with laughter.
Down the road plodded Margaret and Wesley Sinton. Neither of them had words to utter their united thought.
“Done!” hissed Wesley at last. “Done brown! Did you ever feel like a bloomin', confounded donkey? How did the woman do it?”
“She didn't do it!” gulped Margaret through her tears. “She didn't do anything. She trusted to Elnora's great big soul to bring her out right, and really she was right, and so it had to bring her. She's a darling, Wesley! But she's got a time before her. Did you see Kate Comstock grab that money? Before six months she'll be out combing the Limberlost for bugs and arrow points to help pay the tax. I know her.”
“Well, I don't!” exclaimed Sinton, “she's too many for me. But there is a laugh left in her yet! I didn't s'pose there was. Bet you a dollar, if we could see her this minute, she'd be chuckling over the way we got left.”
Both of them stopped in the road and looked back.
“There's Elnora's light in her room,” said Margaret. “The poor child will feel those clothes, and pore over her books till morning, but she'll look decent to go to school, anyway. Nothing is too big a price to pay for that.”
“Yes, if Kate lets her wear them. Ten to one, she makes her finish the week with that old stuff!”
“No, she won't,” said Margaret. “She'll hardly dare. Kate made some concessions, all right; big ones for her—if she did get her way