Sophia considered that they were comfortably provided for. Her
wants and her sister's were very few, and even the niece, although
a young girl, had small expenses, since her wardrobe was supplied
for years to come from that of the deceased aunt. There were
stored away in the garret of the Ackley house enough voluminous
black silks and satins and bombazines to keep her clad in somber
richness for years to come.
Flora was a very gentle girl, with large, serious blue eyes, a
seldom-smiling, pretty mouth, and smooth flaxen hair. She was
delicate and very young--sixteen on her next birthday.
She came home soon now with her parcels of sugar and tea from the
grocer's. She entered the kitchen gravely and deposited them on
the table by which her Aunt Amanda was seated stringing beans.
Flora wore an obsolete turban-shaped hat of black straw which had
belonged to the dead aunt; it set high like a crown, revealing her
forehead. Her dress was an ancient purple-and-white print, too
long and too large except over the chest, where it held her like a
straight waistcoat.
"You had better take off your hat, Flora," said Sophia.
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