"I saw nothing but the silk," he said, "and I thought it would become you, Elmira." "I am too dark for blue," replied Elmira, fairly blushing for her own blushes. At that time Elmira was as a shy child to her own emotions, and Jerome's were all sleeping. He had truly seen nothing but the sweep of that lovely rose-strewn silk, and never even glanced at the fair wearer. "Why not have a red silk, then?" he asked, soberly. "I can't expect to have things like Squire Merritt's daughter," returned Elmira. "I don't want a new silk dress; I am going to have a real pretty one made out of mother's wedding silk; she's had it laid by all these years, and she says I may have it. It's as good as new. I'm going over to Granby this morning to get it cut. When Imogen and Sarah Lawson came over last week they told me about a mantua-maker there who will cut it beautifully for a shilling." "Mother don't want to give up her wedding-dress." "Women always have their wedding-dresses made over for their daughters," Elmira said, gravely. "What color is it?" "A real pretty green, with a little sheeny figure in it; and I am going to have a new ribbon on my bonnet." "It's 'most ten miles to Granby; hadn't I better get a team and take you over?" said Jerome. "No; it's a beautiful morning, and it will do me good to walk. I shall go to Imogen and Sarah's and rest, and have a bite of something before I come back too. I may not be home very early. You'd better run along, Jerome, and I've got to get ready." Jerome gave his burden of shoes a hitch of final adjustment. "Well," said he, "I'd just as lief take you over, if you say so." "I don't want to be taken over. I want to take myself over," laughed Elmira, and ran into the house before a flurry of wind.