style="font-size:15px;"> “I believe it was somebody in Aunt Grace’s family,” she replied slowly. “Because they used to be rich, and now they are poor. And I think that if a burglar had entered the house, somebody, probably Aunt Mattie, would have wakened up.”
“Couldn’t he have entered before your aunt went to bed?” suggested Mary Louise.
“Maybe. But Aunt Mattie was on the front porch all evening, and she’d probably have heard him.”
“All right, then,” agreed Mary Louise. “Let’s drop the idea of the burglar for the time being. Let’s hear about the family – your aunt Grace’s family, I mean.”
She reached into her pocket and took out a pencil and notebook, which she had provided for the purpose of writing down any items of clothing that Elsie might particularly want. Instead of that, she would list the possible suspects, the way her father usually did when he was working on a murder case.
“Go ahead,” she said. “I’m ready now. Tell me how many brothers and sisters your aunt Mattie had, and everything else you can.”
“Aunt Mattie had only two brothers, and not any sisters at all. My father was one brother, and Aunt Grace’s husband was the other. They’re both dead.”
“Then your aunt Grace isn’t your aunt Mattie’s real sister?” inquired Jane.
“No. But Aunt Mattie seems to like her better than any of her blood relations, even if she is only a sister-in-law. She comes over here pretty often.”
“Maybe she took the money.”
Elsie looked shocked.
“Not Aunt Grace! She’s too religious. Always going to church and talking about right and wrong. She even argued with Aunt Mattie to let me go to Sunday school, but Aunt Mattie wouldn’t buy me a decent dress.”
At the mention of clothing, Jane reached for the package they had carried with them to Dark Cedars, but Mary Louise shook her head, signalling her to wait until Elsie had finished.
“Well, anyway, Aunt Mattie’s father liked her better than her two brothers, and he promised to leave her his money if she wouldn’t get married while he was alive. And she didn’t, you know.”
“I guess nobody ever asked her,” remarked Jane bluntly.
“That’s what my mother used to say,” agreed Elsie. “She didn’t like Aunt Mattie, and Aunt Mattie hated her. So it’s no wonder I’m not welcome here!”
Mary Louise called Elsie back to her facts by tapping her pencil on her notebook.
“So far I have only one relative written down,” she said. “That’s your aunt Grace. Please go on.”
“As I told you, I think,” Elsie continued immediately, “Aunt Grace has three grown children. Two boys and a girl.”
“Names, please,” commanded Mary Louise in her most practical tone.
“John Grant, Harry Grant, and Mrs. Ellen Grant Pearson. The daughter is married.”
“How old are they?”
“All about forty, I guess. I don’t know. Middle-aged – no, I guess you wouldn’t call Harry middle-aged. He’s the youngest. Except, of course, the granddaughter – Mrs. Pearson’s only child. She’s a girl about eighteen or nineteen.”
“What’s her name?”
“Corinne – Corinne Pearson.”
“Is that everybody?” asked Mary Louise. “I mean, all the living relatives of Miss Mattie Grant?”
“Yes, that’s all.”
Mary Louise read her list aloud, just to make sure that she had gotten the names correctly and to impress them upon her own mind.
“Mrs. Grace Grant – aged about sixty-five, sister-in-law of Miss Mattie.
“John Grant – middle-aged.
“Ellen Grant Pearson – middle-aged.
“Harry Grant – about thirty.
“Corinne Pearson – about nineteen…”
“But you forgot me!” Elsie reminded her.
“No, we didn’t forget you, either,” replied Mary Louise, with a smile. “We’ve got something for you – in that package.”
“Something to make you forget your troubles,” added Jane. “Some new clothes.”
The girl’s eyes lighted up with joy.
“Honestly? Oh, that’s wonderful! Let me see them!”
Mary Louise untied the package and held the things up for Elsie to look at. The girl’s expression was one of positive rapture. A silk dress! In the latest style! And the kind of soft wooly coat she had always dreamed of possessing! A hat that was a real hat – not one of those outlandish sunbonnets her aunt Mattie made her wear! Dainty lingerie – and a pair of white shoes!
“Oh, it’s too much!” she cried. “I couldn’t take them! They’re your best things – I know they are.” And once again her eyes filled with tears.
“We have other nice clothes,” Mary Louise assured her. “And our mothers said it was all right. So you must take them: we’d be hurt if you didn’t.”
“Honestly?” The girl looked as if she could not believe there was so much goodness in the world.
“Absolutely! Now – don’t you want to go in and try them on?”
“I’ll do it right here,” said Elsie. “These cedars are so thick that nobody can see me. And if I went into the house they might not let me out again to show you.”
With trembling fingers she pulled off her shoes and stockings, and the old calico dress she was wearing, and put on the silk slip and the green flowered dress. Then the white stockings and the slippers, which fitted beautifully. And last of all, the coat.
Her eyes were sparkling now, and her feet were taking little dancing steps of delight. Elsie Grant looked like a different person!
“Wonderful!” cried Mary Louise and Jane in the same breath.
“Only – let me fix your hair,” suggested the former. “It’s naturally curly, isn’t it? But you have it drawn back so tightly you can scarcely see any wave.”
“I’d like to wear it like yours, Mary Louise,” replied the orphan wistfully. “But it’s too long, and I have no money for barbers or beauty parlors.”
“We’ll see what we can do next time we come,” answered Mary Louise. “But let’s loosen it up a bit now and put your knot down low on your neck so that the hat will fit.”
Deftly she fluffed it out a little at the sides and pinned it in a modish style. Then she put the little white felt hat on Elsie’s head at just the correct angle and stepped back to survey the transformed girl with pride.
“You’re
