I put it away in camphor balls,
'n' Lord knows I don't look forward to the gettin' it out to wear, f'r
the whole carriage load 'll sneeze their heads off whenever I move in
that dress."
"Did you put newspaper--" Mrs. Lathrop began, mastering her earlier
emotions.
"In the sleeves? Yes, I did, 'n' I bought a pair o' black gloves 'n'
two handkerchiefs 'n' slipped 'em into the pockets. Everythin' is all
fixed, 'n' there 'll be nothin' to do when father dies but to shake it
out 'n' lay it on the bed in his room. I say 'in his room,' 'cause o'
course that day he 'll be havin' the guest-room. I was thinkin' of it
all this afternoon when I sat there by him hemmin' the braid on the
skirt, 'n' I could n't but think 't if I sit 'n' wait very much longer
I sh'll suddenly find myself pretty far advanced in years afore I know
it. This world's made f'r the young 's well's the old, 'n' you c'n
believe me or not jus' 's you please, Mrs. Lathrop, but I 've always
meant to get married 's soon 's father was off my hands. I was
countin' up to-day, though, 'n' if he lives to be a hunderd, I 'll be
nigh onto seventy 'n' no man ain't goin' to marry me at seventy.
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