“Along the old Limberlost trail, my girl, torn to pieces sobbing.  Her courage always has been fine, but the thing she met to-day was too much for her.  We ought to have known better than to let her go that way.  It wasn’t only clothes; there were books, and entrance fees for out-of-town people, that she didn’t know about; while there must have been jeers, whispers, and laughing.  Maggie, I feel as if I’d been a traitor to those girls of ours.  I ought to have gone in and seen about this school business.  Don’t cry, Maggie.  Get me some supper, and I’ll hitch up and see what we can do now.”

“What can we do, Wesley?

“I don’t just know.  But we’ve got to do something.  Kate Comstock will be a handful, while Elnora will be two, but between us we must see that the girl is not too hard pressed about money, and that she is dressed so she is not ridiculous.  She’s saved us the wages of a woman many a day, can’t you make her some decent dresses?”

“Well, I’m not just what you call expert, but I could beat Kate Comstock all to pieces.  I know that skirts should be pleated to the band instead of gathered, and full enough to sit in, and short enough to walk in.  I could try.  There are patterns for sale.  Let’s go right away, Wesley.”

“Set me a bit of supper, while I hitch up.”

Margaret built a fire, made coffee, and fried ham and eggs.  She set out pie and cake and had enough for a hungry man by the time the carriage was at the door, but she had no appetite.  She dressed while Wesley ate, put away the food while he dressed, and then they drove toward the city through the beautiful September evening, and as they went they planned for Elnora.  The trouble was, not whether they were generous enough to buy what she needed, but whether she would accept their purchases, and what her mother would say.

They went to a drygoods store and when a clerk asked what they wanted to see neither of them knew, so they stepped aside and held a whispered consultation.

“What had we better get, Wesley?”

“Dresses,” said Wesley promptly,

“But how many dresses, and what kind?”

“Blest if I know!” exclaimed Wesley.  “I thought you would manage that.  I know about some things I’m going to get.”

At that instant several high school girls came into the store and approached them.

“There!” exclaimed Wesley breathlessly.  “There, Maggie!  Like them!  That’s what she needs!  Buy like they have!”

Margaret stared.  What did they wear?  They were rapidly passing; they seemed to have so much, and she could not decide so quickly.  Before she knew it she was among them.

“I beg your pardon, but won’t you wait one minute?” she asked.

The girls stopped with wondering faces.

“It’s your clothes,” explained Mrs. Sinton.  “You look just beautiful to me.  You look exactly as I should have wanted to see my girls.  They both died of diphtheria when they were little, but they had yellow hair, dark eyes and pink cheeks, and everybody thought they were lovely.  If they had lived, they’d been near your age now, and I’d want them to look like you.”