Copy-Cat Other Stories | Page 8

consider best," said Mrs. Diantha. Then she
left the room.
Grandmother Wheeler sat for a few minutes, her blue eyes opaque, her
little pink lips a straight line; then suddenly her eyes lit, and she smiled.
"Poor Diantha," said she, "I remember how Henry used to like Lily
Jennings's mother before he married Diantha. Sour grapes hang high."
But Grand- mother Wheeler's beautiful old face was quite soft and
gentle. From her heart she pitied the reacher after those high-hanging
sour grapes, for Mrs. Dian- tha had been very good to her.
Then Grandmother Wheeler, who had a mild persistency not evident to
a casual observer, began to make plans and lay plots. She was resolved,
Diantha or not, that her granddaughter, her son's child, should have
some fine feathers. The little conference had taken place in her own
room, a large, sunny one, with a little storeroom opening from it.
Presently Grandmother Wheeler rose, entered the storeroom, and began
rummaging in some old trunks. Then followed days of secret work.
Grandmother Wheeler had been noted as a fine needlewoman, and her
hand had not yet lost its cunning. She had one of Amelia's ugly little
ginghams, purloined from a closet, for size, and she worked two or
three dainty wonders. She took Grandmother Stark into her confidence.
Sometimes the two ladies, by reason of their age, found it possible to
combine with good results.
"Your daughter Diantha is one woman in a thou- sand," said

Grandmother Wheeler, diplomatically, one day, "but she never did care
much for clothes."
"Diantha," returned Grandmother Stark, with a suspicious glance,
"always realized that clothes were not the things that mattered."
"And, of course, she is right," said Grandmother Wheeler, piously.
"Your Diantha is one woman in a thousand. If she cared as much for
fine clothes as some women, I don't know where we should all be. It
would spoil poor little Amelia."
"Yes, it would," assented Grandmother Stark. "Nothing spoils a little
girl more than always to be thinking about her clothes."
"Yes, I was looking at Amelia the other day, and thinking how much
more sensible she appeared in her plain gingham than Lily Jennings in
all her ruffles and ribbons. Even if people were all notic- ing Lily, and
praising her, thinks I to myself, 'How little difference such things really
make. Even if our dear Amelia does stand to one side, and nobody
notices her, what real matter is it?'" Grandmother Wheeler was
inwardly chuckling as she spoke.
Grandmother Stark was at once alert. "Do you mean to say that Amelia
is really not taken so much notice of because she dresses plainly?" said
she.
"You don't mean that you don't know it, as ob- servant as you are?"
replied Grandmother Wheeler.
"Diantha ought not to let it go as far as that," said Grandmother Stark.
Grandmother Wheeler looked at her queerly. "Why do you look at me
like that?"
"Well, I did something I feared I ought not to have done. And I didn't
know what to do, but your speaking so makes me wonder --"
"Wonder what?"
Then Grandmother Wheeler went to her little storeroom and emerged
bearing a box. She dis- played the contents -- three charming little
white frocks fluffy with lace and embroidery.
"Did you make them?"
"Yes, I did. I couldn't help it. I thought if the dear child never wore
them, it would be some com- fort to know they were in the house."
"That one needs a broad blue sash," said Grand- mother Stark.
Grandmother Wheeler laughed. She took her impe- cuniosity easily. "I
had to use what I had," said she.

"I will get a blue sash for that one," said Grand- mother Stark, "and a
pink sash for that, and a flow- ered one for that."
"Of course they will make all the difference," said Grandmother
Wheeler. "Those beautiful sashes will really make the dresses."
"I will get them," said Grandmother Stark, with decision. "I will go
right down to Mann Brothers' store now and get them."
"Then I will make the bows, and sew them on," replied Grandmother
Wheeler, happily.
It thus happened that little Amelia Wheeler was possessed of three
beautiful dresses, although she did not know it.
For a long time neither of the two conspiring grandmothers dared
divulge the secret. Mrs. Dian- tha was a very determined woman, and
even her own mother stood somewhat in awe of her. There- fore, little
Amelia went to school during the spring term soberly clad as ever, and
even on the festive last day wore nothing better than a new blue ging-
ham, made too long, to allow for shrinkage, and new blue hair-ribbons.
The two grandmothers almost wept in secret conclave over the lovely
frocks which were not worn.