Reliance nodded. “Of course,” she agreed. “I must say I like the idea of usin’ real old things that belonged to real old-time folks better than I do hirin’ new make-believes. I’ve been in Old Folks’ Concerts myself. Oh, yes, I have! There was a time when I used to like to dress up and show off as well as the next one. Dear, dear! Why, I remember one Old Folks’ Concert when I wore my own grandmother’s gown, one she had made as a part of her weddin’ outfit. It was a pretty thing, too, and I looked well in it, at least, so they all said. Your uncle took me up to the hall that night in a buggy he hired at the old livery stable that Elkanah Hammond kept. He wore buff knee breeches and white silk stockings and--” Esther broke in. “Who did?” she cried, incredulously. “Not--not Uncle Foster?” “Yes. And his coat was blue, with brass buttons. He-- Now what are you laughin’ at?” Esther had burst into a peal of delighted laughter. “Oh, it sounds too funny to be true!” she exclaimed. “Imagine Uncle Foster wearing things like that!” “He looked well in ’em.... But there! that was--oh, twenty-four years ago. You ask him if he remembers it and see what he says. Now about what you shall wear next week. Why don’t you ask Mr. Griffin’s advice? I understand he is goin’ to have charge of that part--the costumes, I mean.” Esther stared in surprise. “Who?” she cried. “Mr. Griffin? Who is Mr. Griffin, for goodness’ sake?” “Why, young Bob Griffin, from Denboro. Elisha Cook’s grandson. You know who he is. You ought to. He stopped you from bein’ run away with at that horse trot two years ago. Didn’t you know they had given him charge of all the dressin’ up?” Esther did not know it and she demanded particulars. Her aunt supplied them. “It was decided at the committee meetin’ they had yesterday afternoon,” she said. “You were over in Ostable, weren’t you; I forgot that. It seems there was a great pow wow, some wanted to wear one kind of thing and some another and then Mrs. Wheeler, the one that has the summer place on the Shore Road, she came marchin’ in with Bob Griffin under one arm, as you might say, and a great idea under the other. She knew Bob--I guess her daughter met him in New York or New Haven or somewhere--and she--or the daughter--had remembered that he was an artist and would know all about what she called ‘period dress.’ Accordin’ to what I heard he wasn’t so sure about his wisdom as she was, by a good deal, but he agreed to help if they wanted him to. The older folks hadn’t much objection and all the girls were crazy about it, so he was made superintendent of what to wear. He is to be at the next rehearsal, whenever that is.” She paused and Esther nodded. “To-morrow evening,” she said, “in the church vestry.” “Well, wherever it is he’ll be there and you can ask him what he thinks of Tabitha Townsend’s dress. Yes, Tabby was the name she had to answer to, poor soul; my own grandmother used to tell me a lot about her.”