"
"Wait until I get a knife and a pail and I will go along," answered Mrs.
Comstock. "The dandelions are plenty tender for greens among the deep
grasses, and I might just happen to see something myself. My eyes are
pretty sharp."
"I wish you could realize how young you are," said Elnora. "I know women
in Onabasha who are ten years older than you, yet they look twenty years
younger. So could you, if you would dress your hair becomingly, and wear
appropriate clothes."
"I think my hair puts me in the old woman class permanently," said Mrs.
Comstock.
"Well, it doesn't!" cried Elnora. "There is a woman of twenty-eight who
has hair as white as yours from sick headaches, but her face is young
and beautiful. If your face would grow a little fuller and those lines
would go away, you'd be lovely!"
"You little pig!" laughed Mrs. Comstock. "Any one would think you would
be satisfied with having a splinter new mother, without setting up a
kick on her looks, first thing. Greedy!"
"That is a good word," said Elnora. "I admit the charge. I am greedy
over every wasted year. I want you young, lovely, suitably dressed and
enjoying life like the other girls' mothers."
Mrs. Comstock laughed softly as she pushed back her sunbonnet so that
shrubs and bushes beside the way could be scanned closely. Elnora walked
ahead with a case over her shoulder, a net in her hand. Her head was
bare, the rolling collar of her lavender gingham dress was cut in a V
at the throat, the sleeves only reached the elbows.
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