Sadie’s last point was a good one in Mrs. Ried’s opinion.  Perhaps the giddy Sadie, at once her pride and her anxiety, might learn a little self-reliance by feeling a shadow of the weight of care which rested continually on Ester.

“You certainly need the change,” she said, her eyes resting pityingly on the young, careworn face of her eldest daughter.  “But how could we manage about your wardrobe?  Your black silk is nice, to be sure; but you would need one bright evening dress at least, and you know we haven’t the money to spare.”

Then Sadie, thoughtless, selfish Sadie, who was never supposed to have one care for others, and very little for herself—­Sadie, who vexed Ester nearly every hour in the day, by what, at the time, always seemed some especially selfish, heedless act—­suddenly shone out gloriously.  She stood still, and actually seemed to think for a full minute, while Ester jerked a pan of potatoes toward her, and commenced peeling vigorously; then she clapped her hands, and gave vent to little gleeful shouts before she exclaimed “Oh, mother, mother!  I have it exactly.  I wonder we didn’t think of it before.  There’s my blue silk—­just the thing!  I am tall, and she is short, so it will make her a beautiful train dress.  Won’t that do splendidly!”

The magnitude of this proposal awed even Ester into silence.  To be appreciated, it must be understood that Sadie Ried had never in her life possessed a silk dress.  Mrs. Ried’s best black silk had long ago been cut over for Ester; so had her brown and white plaid; so there had been nothing of the sort to remodel for Sadie; and this elegant sky-blue silk had been lying in its satin-paper covering for more than two years.  It was the gift of a dear friend of Mrs. Ried’s girlhood to the young beauty who bore her name, and had been waiting all this time for Sadie to attain proper growth to admit of its being cut into for her.  Meantime she had feasted her eyes upon it, and gloried in the prospect of that wonderful day when she should sweep across the platform of Music Hall with this same silk falling in beautiful blue waves around her; for it had long been settled that it was to be worn first on that day when she should graduate.

No wonder, then, that Ester stood in mute astonishment, while Mrs. Ried commented: 

“Why, Sadie, my dear child, is it possible you are willing to give up your blue silk?”

“Not a bit of it, mother; I don’t intend to give it up the least bit in the world.  I’m merely going to lend it.  It’s too pretty to stay poked up in that drawer by itself any longer.  I’ve set my heart on its coming out this very season Just as likely as not it will learn to put on airs for me when I graduate.  I’m not at all satisfied with my attainments in that line; so Ester shall take it to New York; and if she sits down or stands up, or turns around, or has one minute’s peace while she has it on, for fear lest she should spot it, or tear it, or get it stepped on, I’ll never forgive her.”