Amanda: A Daughter of the Mennonites - Page 67/147

The big automobile that brought Isabel Souders to the Reist farmhouse

one day early in June brought with her a trunk, a suitcase, a bag, an

umbrella and a green parasol.

Aunt Rebecca was visiting there that day and she followed Amanda to the

front door to receive the boarder.

"My goodness," came the exclamation as the luggage was carried in, "is

that girl comin' here for good, with all _that_ baggage? And what

did you let her come here for on a Friday? That's powerful bad luck!"

"For me," thought Amanda as she went to meet Isabel.

"See," the newcomer pointed to her trunk, "I brought some of my

pretties along. I'll have to make hay while the sun shines. I'll have

to make the most of this opportunity to win the heart of some country

youth. Amanda, dear, wouldn't I be a charming farmer's wife? Can you

visualize me milking cows, for instance?"

"No," answered Amanda, "I'd say that you were cut out for a different

role." There was a deeper meaning in the country girl's words than the

flighty city girl could read.

"Just the same," went on the newcomer, "I'm going to have one wonderful

time in the country. You are such a dear to want me here and to take me

into the family. I want to do just all the exciting things one reads

about as belonging to life in the country. I am eager to climb trees

and chase chickens and be a regular country girl for a month."

"Then I hope you brought some old clothes," was the practical reply.

"Not old, but plain little dresses for hard wear. I knew I'd need

them."

Later, as Amanda watched the city girl unpack, she smiled ruefully at

the plain little dresses for hard wear. Her observant eye told her that

the little dresses of gingham and linen must have cost more than her

own "best dresses." It was a very lavish wardrobe Isabel had selected

for her month on the farm. Silk stockings and crepe de chine underwear

were matched in fineness by the crepe blouses, silk dresses, airy

organdies, a suit of exquisite tailoring and three hats for as many

different costumes. The whole outfit would have been adequate and

appropriate for parades on the Atlantic City boardwalk or a saunter

down Peacock Alley of a great hotel, but it was entirely too elaborate

for a Lancaster County farmhouse.

Millie, running in to offer her services in unpacking, stood speechless

at the display of clothes. "Why," she almost stammered, "what in the

world do you want with all them fancy things here? Them's party

clothes, ain't?"

"No." Isabel shook her head. "Some are to wear in the evening and the

plainer ones are afternoon dresses, and the linen and gingham ones are

for morning wear."