But they
seemed glad to see me. I know that. Maybe I'll go to school next week.
Aunt Jane says she thinks I ought to, when it's only the first of May.
She's going to speak to Father when he comes next week.
She was going to speak to him about my clothes; then she decided to
attend to those herself, and not bother him. As I suspected, she
doesn't like my dresses. I found out this morning for sure. She came
into my room and asked to see my things. My! But didn't I hate to show
them to her? Marie said she wouldn't; but Mary obediently trotted to
the closet and brought them out one by one.
Aunt Jane turned them around with the tips of her fingers, all the
time sighing and shaking her head. When I'd brought them all out,
she shook her head again and said they would not do at all--not in
Andersonville; that they were extravagant, and much too elaborate for
a young girl; that she would see the dressmaker and arrange that I had
some serviceable blue and brown serges at once.
Blue and brown serge, indeed! But, there, what's the use? I'm Mary
now, I keep forgetting that; though I don't see how I can forget
it--with Aunt Jane around.
But, listen. A funny thing happened this morning. Something came
up about Boston, and Aunt Jane asked me a question.
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