"And I have given two small suits of men's clothes to the Aid Society for the next out-West barrel.""Eudora's second husband's."
"And I gave the washerwoman enough old baking-dishes to last her lifetime, and some cracked dishes.
Most of the dishes were broken, but a few were only cracked; and I have given Silas Thomas's wife ten old wool dresses and a shawl and three old cloaks.
All the other things which did not go into the bon-fires went to the Aid Society. They will go back out West." Sally laughed, a girlish peal, and her hus-band joined. But suddenly her smooth forehead contracted. "Edward," said she.
"Well, dear?"
"I am terribly puzzled about one thing." The two were sitting in the study. Content had gone to bed. Nobody could hear easily, but Sally Patterson lowered her voice, and her honest, clear blue eyes had a frightened expression.
"What is it, dear?"
"You will think me very silly and cowardly, and I think I have never been cowardly, but this is really very strange. Come with me. I am such a goose, I don't dare go alone to that storeroom."The rector rose. Sally switched on the lights as they went up-stairs to the storeroom.
"Tread very softly," she whispered. "Content is probably asleep."The two tiptoed up the stairs and entered the storeroom. Sally approached one of the two new trunks which had come with Content from out West.
She opened it. She took out a parcel nicely folded in a large towel.
"See here, Edward Patterson."
The rector stared as Sally shook out a dress --a gay, up-to-date dress, a young girl's dress, a very tall young girl's, for the skirts trailed on the floor as Sally held it as high as she could. It was made of a fine white muslin. There was white lace on the bodice, and there were knots of blue ribbon scattered over the whole, knots of blue ribbon confining tiny bunches of rosebuds and daisies. These knots of blue ribbon and the little flowers made it undeniably a young girl's costume. Even in the days of all ages wearing the costumes of all ages, an older woman would have been abashed before those exceedingly youthful knots of blue ribbons and flowers.
The rector looked approvingly at it. "That is very pretty, it seems to me," he said. "That must be worth keeping, Sally.""Worth keeping! Well, Edward Patterson, just wait. You are a man, and of course you cannot un-derstand how very strange it is about the dress."The rector looked inquiringly.
"I want to know," said Sally, "if Content's aunt Eudora had any young relative besides Content. Imean had she a grown-up young girl relative who would wear a dress like this?""I don't know of anybody. There might have been some relative of Eudora's first husband. No, he was an only child. I don't think it possible that Eudora had any young girl relative.""If she had," said Sally, firmly, "she would have kept this dress. You are sure there was nobody else living with Content's aunt at the time she died?""Nobody except the servants, and they were an old man and his wife.""Then whose dress was this?"
"I don't know, Sally."
"You don't know, and I don't. It is very strange.""I suppose," said Edward Patterson, helpless be-fore the feminine problem, "that -- Eudora got it in some way.""In some way," repeated Sally. "That is always a man's way out of a mystery when there is a mys-tery. There is a mystery. There is a mystery which worries me. I have not told you all yet, Edward.""What more is there, dear?"
"I -- asked Content whose dress this was, and she said -- Oh, Edward, I do so despise mysteries.""What did she say, Sally?"
"She said it was her big sister Solly's dress.""Her what?"
"Her big sister Solly's dress. Edward, has Con-tent ever had a sister? Has she a sister now?""No, she never had a sister, and she has none now," declared the rector, emphatically. "I knew all her family. What in the world ails the child?""She said her big sister Solly, Edward, and the very name is so inane. If she hasn't any big sister Solly, what are we going to do?""Why, the child must simply lie," said the rector.
"But, Edward, I don't think she knows she lies.
You may laugh, but I think she is quite sure that she has a big sister Solly, and that this is her dress.
I have not told you the whole. After she came home from school to-day she went up to her room, and she left the door open, and pretty soon I heard her talking. At first I thought perhaps Lily or Amelia was up there, although I had not seen either of them come in with Content. Then after a while, when I had occasion to go up-stairs, I looked in her room, and she was quite alone, although I had heard her talking as I went up-stairs. Then I said: 'Con-tent, I thought somebody was in your room. Iheard you talking.'
"And she said, looking right into my eyes: 'Yes, ma'am, I was talking.'
"'But there is nobody here,' I said.
"'Yes, ma'am,' she said. 'There isn't anybody here now, but my big sister Solly was here, and she is gone. You heard me talking to my big sister Solly.' I felt faint, Edward, and you know it takes a good deal to overcome me. I just sat down in Content's wicker rocking-chair. I looked at her and she looked at me. Her eyes were just as clear and blue, and her forehead looked like truth itself. She is not exactly a pretty child, and she has a peculiar appearance, but she does certainly look truthful and good, and she looked so then. She had tried to fluff her hair over her forehead a little as I had told her, and not pull it back so tight, and she wore her new dress, and her face and hands were as clean, and she stood straight. You know she is a little inclined to stoop, and I have talked to her about it. She stood straight, and looked at me with those blue eyes, and I did feel fairly dizzy.""What did you say?"
"Well, after a bit I pulled myself together and I said: 'My dear little girl, what is this? What do you mean about your big sister Sarah?' Edward, I could not bring myself to say that idiotic Solly.
In fact, I did think I must be mistaken and had not heard correctly. But Content just looked at me as if she thought me very stupid. 'Solly,' said she.
'My sister's name is Solly.'
