"You're not far from right, for 'tis made of old Madras window curtains
that cost eight cents a yard when new. There wasn't enough of the stuff
to cover all my windows here, so I made it up into a dress rather than
waste it, for I liked the pattern of it very much. Oh, yes--and there's
sixteen cents' worth of ribbon worked into it--I'd forgotten that. But
your dress--oh, I shouldn't dare wear one so costly as a black silk.
Really, I should think it a sinful waste of money that might do so much
good to the poor, or to the Missionary Society, or the Bible Society,
or--"
"What time's it gittin' to be?" asked the tormentor. "I'll bet my
husban' is jest rarin' 'roun' like a bob-tail steer in fly-time, an'
tellin' all the other men that women never know when it's time to go
home, an' what a long drive he's got before him, an' all the stock to
water when he gits thar. Good-by, Mis' Somerton. Some day I'll borrer
that ice-cream machine o' yourn, an' a hunk o' ice, if you don't mind."
The other women also took their leave, and soon Grace was alone with
Mrs. Taggess, who said:--
"I'd apologize for them, my dear, if you hadn't known in advance that
they were the most malicious lot in the county."