“If you are presented to your grandmother in homespun,” she says, “she will remember it to the last day of her life. Your grandmother is very old, Azalea, so that she is inclined to pay too much attention to little matters. She will say to everyone who comes to the house: ‘This is Azalea, the daughter of my dear Jack. She came to me in homespun, but I have clothed her in silk—as becomes her.’ Oh, it is so easy to imagine her saying it. Truly, she will never forget the homespun nor let you forget it. What is worse, she will insist on dressing you herself, and she will probably do it out of the cedar chests in the lumber room.”
“Yes, the famous, terrible cedar chests. They are filled with loot from all over the world—old shawls and crepes and brocades and laces. Never was there such an expensive and unusable mess. Ever since David married me she has wanted me to make over these things—”
“And very lovely you would look in them,” broke in my Uncle David in gentle rebuke.
“Lovely, indeed,” cried Aunt Lorena. “I would look like a romantic scarecrow. No, David, the ladies who wore those gowns dressed in the fashion of their day, and I mean to dress in the fashion of mine. I warn Azalea right now that if she doesn’t let me send to Charleston for fit and proper clothing for her, she’ll be wearing those stiff old things to the day of her—marriage.”
“Oh, I’d be certain to have my wedding dress made out of the chests, I should think,” I said, perfectly delighted with the idea. “Hasn’t grandmother saved her wedding dress?”
“Of course she has, and her wedding chemise and slippers and veil and fan.”
“Oh,” I cried, “just let me lie still and think about it awhile. Isn’t it like a fairy tale?”
So I did. I lay still quite a while looking at the fire, and wondering if it could be true that I, Azalea Knox, who had believed myself to be little more than a waif, was coming into a home all mellow and beautiful with old customs and memories and loves—and hates, too, I suppose. Then I seemed to feel that something was wrong, and looking up I saw my new Uncle David frowning at me—distinctly frowning.
“Why are you so interested in bridal dresses?”
“Aren’t all girls interested in bridal dresses?”
“Not when they are infants like yourself, miss.”