the price, by any means.
Knowing that the dress would be an innovation that would set her mother
storming and fill Kate with envy, which would probably culminate in the
demand that the goods be returned and exchanged for dirt-brown, when
she reached home Nancy Ellen climbed from the wagon and told her father
that she was going on to Adam's to have Agatha cut out her dress so
that she could begin to sew on it that night. Such commendable
industry met his hearty approval, so he told her to go and he would see
that Kate did her share of the work. Wise Nancy Ellen came home and
sat her down to sew on her gorgeous frock, while the storm she had
feared raged in all its fury; but the goods was cut, and could not be
returned. Yet, through it, a miracle happened: Nancy Ellen so
appreciated herself in pink that the extreme care she used with that
dress saved it from half the trips of a dirt-brown one to the wash
board and the ironing table; while, marvel of marvels, it did not
shrink, it did not fade, also it wore like buckskin. The result was
that before the season had passed Kate was allowed to purchase a pale
blue, which improved her appearance quite as much in proportion as pink
had Nancy Ellen's; neither did the blue fade nor shrink nor require so
much washing, for the same reason. Three years the pink dress had been
Nancy Ellen's PIECE DE RESISTANCE; now she had a new one, much the
same, yet conspicuously different. This was a daring rose colour, full
and wide, peeping white embroidery trimming, and big pearl buttons,
really a beautiful dress, made in a becoming manner. Kate looked at it
in cheerful envy. Never mind! The coming summer she would have a blue
that would make that pink look silly. From the dress she turned to
Nancy Ellen, barely in time to see her bend her head and smirk,
broadly, smilingly, approvingly, at her reflection in the glass.

"For mercy sake, what IS the matter with you?" demanded Kate, ripping a
strand of hair in sudden irritation.

"Oh, something lovely!" answered her sister, knowing that this was her
chance to impart the glad tidings herself; if she lost it, Agatha would
get the thrill of Kate's surprise. So Nancy Ellen opened her drawer
and slowly produced and set upon her bureau a cabinet photograph of a
remarkably strong-featured, handsome young man. Then she turned to
Kate and smiled a slow, challenging smile. Kate walked over and picked
up the picture, studying it intently but in