Gray told me to, at once--about this
red gingham dress, you know, and why I'm not in black. She said
you'd think 'twas queer. But there weren't any black things in
the last missionary barrel, only a lady's velvet basque which
Deacon Carr's wife said wasn't suitable for me at all; besides,
it had white spots--worn, you know--on both elbows, and some
other places. Part of the Ladies' Aid wanted to buy me a black
dress and hat, but the other part thought the money ought to go
toward the red carpet they're trying to get--for the church, you
know. Mrs. White said maybe it was just as well, anyway, for she
didn't like children in black--that is, I mean, she liked the
children, of course, but not the black part."
Pollyanna paused for breath, and Nancy managed to stammer:
"Well, I'm sure it--it'll be all right."
"I'm glad you feel that way. I do, too," nodded Pollyanna, again
with that choking little breath. "Of course, 'twould have been a
good deal harder to be glad in black--"
"Glad!" gasped Nancy, surprised into an interruption.
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