So Brenda rattled on, while the finishing touches, as far as the fitting was concerned, were given to the two white crepe gowns. Then, with Agnes’s help, all the shopping was accomplished, even to the little things that the girls wished to take to Shiloh. At last, tired with their day’s work, they returned to the large house, which seemed so unnatural with carpets rolled up, furniture shrouded in white linen, and ornaments put out of sight.
“As if the family was getting ready for a funeral instead of a wedding,” whispered Brenda.
“Be careful!” cried Julia; “it might worry Agnes even to hear such a suggestion.”
“Julia,” said Brenda, the next morning, as the train rolled toward Shiloh, “in one way I feel very uncomfortable when I think of seeing Mrs. Rosa. I suppose you think that I never worry about that money, because I never speak about it; hut really I do.”
“Why, you silly girl,” cried Julia, “why should you worry?—the thing is all settled.”
“There, Julia,” responded Brenda, “you are really rather unkind. How can you call the thing settled! That two hundred dollars is gone, and—”
“But you know, Brenda, that Mrs. Rosa is no worse off.”
“I know it, Julia; in one way, she is n’t, for you certainly behaved like an angel; but you forget the rule that papa made. I am to have only one-third of my allowance until the two hundred dollars is made up. It will take ages—perfect ages.”
