But for the
bitter cold that kept me an unwilling prisoner by the fireside, I would
have escaped into my own room to avoid the looks that seemed to follow
me everywhere.
But I would not yield to my inward irritability; I hummed a tune; I even
sang to myself, as I hemmed my new bib aprons, or quilled the neat
border for my cap. Nay, I became recklessly gay the last night, and
dressed myself in what I termed my nurse's uniform, a dark-navy blue
cambric, and then went down to show myself to Uncle Keith, who was
reading aloud the paper to Aunt Agatha. I could see him start as I
entered; but Aunt Agatha's first words made me blush, and in a moment I
repented my misplaced spirit of fun.
"Why, Merle, how pretty you look! Does not the child look almost pretty,
Ezra, though that cap does hide her nice smooth hair? I had no idea that
dress would be so becoming." But the rest of Aunt Agatha's speech was
lost upon me, for I ran out of the room. Why, they seemed actually to
believe that I was play-acting, that my part was a becoming one! Pretty,
indeed! And here such a strange revulsion of feeling took possession of
me that I absolutely shed a few tears, though none but myself was
witness to this humiliating fact.
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