He was not accustomed
to boudoir gowns of filmy lace and thin silk, and he thought they were
a new style of party dress. Had he known _what_ Barbara proposed
wearing, he would have asked her to remain at home.
As Sary passed the bread to Eleanor she leaned over and beamed: "Miss
Nolla, Ah tried that on, an' you-all woulden' know me! Ah'm shore he'll
pick me fer a lanciers! Mebbe that scarf'll give him spine enough to
speak!"
"Sary, I know right well he will!" declared Eleanor, not dreaming the
mischief she wrought in Sary's soul at that.
Sary pranced back to the kitchen, but her flighty thoughts were
swinging corners in the quadrille with Jeb, and the fried potatoes were
gracefully shot into the coal-scuttle as the pan was waved aloft in
imitation of dancers she had envied in days gone by.
"Sary, hurry with the coffee-pot, please!" called Polly.
And Sary grabbed up the stone jug of vinegar from the back of the stove
where she had placed it, and ran in to pour the beverage into cups. The
combined cries of every one at the table failed to bring her to her
senses, so Mrs. Brewster told her to go quickly and dress for the
dance.
Then wagon wheels sounded on the gravel road and Jeb yelled: "Air you-
all ready?"
Sary gave a last lingering look in the tiny mirror over her combination
wash-stand, and realized what charms she had when rainbow chiffon
adorned her person. She then snuffed out the tiny lamp-wick and hurried
forth to meet her fate.
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