The Bride's House Read Online Free PDF Page B

excited she was about attending the drilling contest with Will Spaulding.
    “I do, and if you don’t like it, bring it to me, and I’ll make a quilt of it. A quilt that color would be like sleeping under spring.”
    “You don’t think it’s too … ah … brassy?” Nealie liked the brightness, because she had never had a dress made from new cloth. Her clothes, even when they were new to her, had always been faded and worn.
    “It’s bold, but brassy? No,” replied the woman, who was herself dressed in a blue bright enough to make nature blush.
    Nealie wasn’t yet reassured. She looked up at the bolts of yellow and red. She’d never had choices like this before. Nor had she ever looked at herself in a large mirror to see which colors were right on her. She did like the green better than the other material, however, and so she bought the fabric and thread and packets of pins and needles and took them all back to the boardinghouse.
    Mrs. Travers spotted the fabric before Nealie had emptied the basket. “Somebody’s going to wear a new dress on Sunday, I’d say.”
    “Do you like it?” Nealie asked.
    “You’ll be as bright as a willow tree,” Mrs. Travers said. She might have told the girl she’d look better in something more muted, but the fabric was already bought. She added, “Not many women can wear the color. I daresay you can.”
    Nealie breathed a sigh of relief. “Now, all I’ve got to do is sew it.”
    “If I help you with the stitching, we should have it done in no time.”
    “You’d do that? Even though you think I ought to step out with Mr. Dumas instead of Mr. Spaulding?”
    “That’s your business.” Mrs. Travers pinched the fabric between her fingers. “This will take some work.”
    “If we had a sewing machine, we could finish it before supper. I saw a sewing machine once. You just put the fabric under a needle, and it sews a seam all by itself.”
    “And drips oil on it and chews up the material, too. I believe we’ll do just as well by hand.”
    After they finished preparations for supper, the two women sat down at the dining room table, and using Nealie’s second dress as a pattern, they cut out the green. Mrs. Travers pinned the pieces together, then Nealie tried on the dress. Mrs. Travers checked the fit, moving pins in and out, until she was satisfied. By the time the two quit to begin cooking, the dress was ready for stitching.
    They finished their sewing on Saturday, Mrs. Travers doing most of the work, because Nealie was too restless to sit with a needle. She tried on the dress a final time, and then she looked at Mrs. Travers in dismay. “Buttons. I forgot to get buttons. I hope they have them at the store.”
    “I’ve got some you can use.” Mrs. Travers went to a trunk and pulled out a box. She removed a set of black buttons, tied together with a string, and another string of dull brass buttons. “You take your pick.” The black would tone down the green a little.
    “Brass. I never had brass buttons, although I found one once, a soldier button. I’ll rub them with salt to make them shine.” She didn’t see Mrs. Travers frown as if she shouldn’t have given the girl the choice.
    *   *   *
     
    Mrs. Travers did not serve meals on Sundays, so Nealie had hours to ready herself for her engagement with Will. She heated water on the cookstove and washed. Then she scrubbed her long hair, letting it dry by sitting with her back to the hot stove. She brushed the hair to get out the tangles, braided it, and wound the braid around the top of her head in a crown. She looked at herself in the small mirror over the dry sink, and dissatisfied, she took apart the braid and fashioned a bun at the nape of her neck. But she wasn’t happy with the way that looked, either, so she tried wearing her hair down, then finally, at Mrs. Travers’s suggestion, she pulled it back and tied it with a black ribbon. “I wish my hair was smooth,” she complained to Mrs. Travers, not