An Old-fashioned Girl by Louisa M. Alcott

plans,” said Maud with comical dignity as she tried the effect of an

old white bonnet, wondering if farmers’ wives could wear ostrich

feathers when they went to meeting.

“Blessed innocence! Don’t you wish you were a child, and dared

tell what you want?” murmured Fanny.

“I wish I had seen Will’s face when Maud proposed,” answered

Polly, with a nod which answered her friend’s speech better than

her words.

“Any news of anybody?” whispered Fan, affecting to examine a

sleeve with care.

“Still at the South; don’t think late events have been reported yet;

that accounts for absence,” answered Polly.

“I think Sir Philip was hit harder than was supposed,” said Fan.

“I doubt it, but time cures wounds of that sort amazing quick.”

“Wish it did!”

“Who is Sir Philip?” demanded Maud, pricking up her ears.

“A famous man who lived in the time of Queen Elizabeth,”

answered Fan, with a look at Polly.

“Oh!” And Maud seemed satisfied, but the sharp child had her

suspicions nevertheless.

“There will be an immense deal of work in all this fixing over and

I hate to sew,” said Fanny, to divert a certain person’s thoughts.

“Jenny and I are going to help. We are your debtors, as well as

Belle, and demand the privilege of paying up. Blessings, like

curses, come home to roost, Fan.”

“Mine come home a good deal bigger than they went,” answered

Fanny, looking pleased that little favors should be so faithfully

remembered.

“The interest on that sort of investment rolls up beautifully, you

know. Now rip that dress for Jenny to put in order, and I ‘ll toss

you up a bonnet in less than no time,” said Polly, determined to

have things go smoothly, for she knew Fan’s feelings had been a

good deal tried lately, in many ways.

“I must have something to match my dress, and blue inside,” said

Fanny, bringing out her ribbon boxes.

“Anything you like, my dear; when it comes to bonnets, I am

usually inspired. I have it! There we are! And nothing could be

nicer,” cried Polly, making a dive among the silks Fan was turning

over with a lost expression. “This bit of silver-gray is all I ask, here

‘s enough for a killing bonnet, and those forget-me-nots are both

pretty and appropriate.”

“You wretch, be still!” cried Fanny, as Polly looked up at her with

a wicked laugh in her eyes.

“It will be done in time, and the dress likewise, so look your

prettiest, and accept my blessing,” continued Polly, seeing that Fan

liked her raillery.

“Time for what?” asked Paulina Pry.

“Your wedding, dear,” sweetly answered Fan, for Polly’s pleasant

hints and predictions put her in a charming humor, and even made

old clothes of little consequence.

Maud gave an incredulous sniff, and wondered why “big girls need

to be so dreadful mysterious about their old secrets.”

“This silk reminds me of Kitty’s performance last summer. A little

checked silk was sent in our spring bundle from Mrs. Davenport,

and Mother said Kit might have it if she could make it do. So I

washed it nicely, and we fussed and planned, but it came short by

half of one sleeve. I gave it up, but Kit went to work and matched

every scrap that was left so neatly that she got out the half sleeve,

put it on the under side, and no one was the wiser. How many

pieces do you think she put in, Maud?”

“Fifty,” was the wise reply.

“No, only ten, but that was pretty well for a fourteen-year-old

dressmaker. You ought to have seen the little witch laugh in her

sleeve when any one admired the dress, for she wore it all summer

and looked as pretty as a pink in it. Such things are great fun when

you get used to them; besides, contriving sharpens your wits, and

makes you feel as if you had more hands than most people.”

“I think we ‘ll get a farm near your house; I should like to know

Kitty,” said Maud, feeling a curious interest in a girl who made

such peculiar patchwork.

“The dress-parade is over, and I ‘m ever so much obliged to you,

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