one beauty--her small, white hands. Even the family sewing she did
under protest.

"Is the alpaca all gone?" asked Grandmother.

"Yes," Matilda replied. "I used the last of it patchin' Rosemary's dress
under the arms. It beats all how hard she is on her clothes."

[Sidenote: A Question of Colour]

"I'll have to order more," sighed the old lady. "I suppose the price has
gone up again."

Rosemary's breath came and went quickly; her heart fluttered with a
sudden wildness. "Grandmother," she pleaded, hesitatingly, "oh, Aunt
Matilda--just for this once, couldn't I have grey alpaca instead of
brown? I hate brown so!"

Both women stared at her as though she had all at once gone mad. The
silence became intense, painful.

"I mean," faltered the girl, "if it's the same price. I wouldn't ask you
to pay any more. Perhaps grey might be cheaper now--even cheaper than
brown!"

"I was married in brown alpaca," said Grandmother. She used the tone in
which royalty may possibly allude to coronation.

"I was wearing brown alpaca," observed Aunt Matilda, "the night the
minister came to call."

"Made just like this," they said, together.

"If brown alpaca's good enough for weddin's and ministers, I reckon
it'll do for orphans that don't half earn their keep," resumed
Grandmother, with her keen eyes fixed upon Rosemary.

"What put the notion into your head?" queried Aunt Matilda, with the
air of one athirst for knowledge.

[Sidenote: A Surprise Party]

"Why--nothing," the girl stammered, "except that--when I was looking at
mother's things the other day, up in the attic, I found some pink
ribbon, and I thought it would be pretty with grey, and if I had a grey
dress----"

The other two exchanged glances. "Ain't it wonderful," asked Matilda of
her mother, "how blood will tell?"

"It certainly is," responded Grandmother, polishing her spectacles
vigorously with a corner of the plaid shawl. "Your ma," she went on, to
Rosemary, "was wearin' grey when your pa brought her here to visit us.
They was a surprise party--both of 'em. We didn't even know he was
plannin' marriage and I don't believe he was, either. We've always
thought your ma roped him into it, somehow."

Rosemary's eyes filled with mist and she bit her lips.

"She was wearin' grey," continued Aunt Matilda; "light grey that would
show every spot. I told her it wasn't a very serviceable colour and she
had the impudence to laugh at me. 'It'll clean, won't it?' she say