shed she had
kept to the usual wash-day dinner--cold meat and warmed-over vegetables.
She felt undeniably cross. She had not cordially acquiesced in Betty's
going to the party. The best gown she had to wear was her gray cloth,
new in the spring. It had been let down in the skirt and trimmed with
some wine-colored bands Aunt Priscilla had brought her. It would be a
good discipline for Betty to wear it. When she saw the other young girls
in gayer attire, she would be mortified if she had any pride. Just where
proper pride began and improper pride ended she was not quite clear.
Anyhow, it would check Betty's party-going this winter. And now all the
nice-laid plans had come to grief.

Doris stood still, feeling there was something not quite harmonious in
the atmosphere.

"You were just royal to think of it," said Warren, clasping both arms
around Doris. "Uncle Win told me about it. And I hope you like our
choice. Betty had a blue and white cambric, I think they called it, last
summer, and she looked so nice in it, but it didn't wash well. Silk
doesn't have to be washed. Oh, you haven't read your letter."

Uncle Leverett had been folding and rolling the silk and laid it on a
chair. The dinner came in just as Doris had read two or three lines of
her note.

"Aunt Elizabeth,"--when there was a little lull,--"Uncle Winthrop says
he will come up to supper to-night."

"He seems very devoted, suddenly."

"Well, why shouldn't he be devoted to the little stranger in his charge,
if she isn't exactly within his gates? She is in ours."

A flush crept up in Elizabeth Leverett's face. She did not look at
Doris, but she felt the child's eyes were upon her--wondering eyes,
asking the meaning of this unusual mood. It was unreasonable as well.
Elizabeth had a kindly heart, and she knew she was doing not only
herself but Doris an injustice. She checked her rising displeasure.

"I should have enjoyed seeing you and Uncle Win shopping," she said
rather jocosely to Warren.

Betty glanced up at that. The sky was clearing and the storm blowing
over. But, oh, she had her pretty gown, come what might!

"I don't believe but what I would have been a better judge than either
of them," said Uncle Leverett.

"Uncle Win wasn't really any judge at all," rejoined Warren laughingly.
"He would have chosen the very best there was, fine enough for a
wedding gown. But I knew Betty liked blue, and that girls wanted
something soft and delicate."

"Y