run. She lost the consciousness of herself in her new attire.

Once Harry looked around at her, and received a shock. Maria's face
looked to him exactly like her mother's, although the coloring was so
different. Maria was a blonde, and her mother had been dark. There
was something about the excitement hardly restrained in her little
face, which made the man realize that the dead wife yet lived and
reigned triumphant in her child. He himself was conscious that he
conducted himself rather awkwardly and foolishly. A red spot burned
on either cheek. He spoke jerkily, and it seemed to him that
everything he said was silly, and that people might repeat it and
laugh. He was relieved when it was all over and he and Ida were in
the cab, driving to the station. When they were rolling rapidly
through a lonely part of the road, he put his arm around his new
wife, and kissed her. She received his kiss, and looked at him with
her set smile and the set sparkle in her beautiful eyes. Again the
feeling of almost terror which he had experienced the night when
Maria had torn the paper off in her mother's room, came over him.
However, he made an effort and threw it off.

"Poor little Maria looked charming, thanks to you, dearest," he said,
tenderly.

"Yes, I thought she did. That gray suit was just the thing for her,
wasn't it? I never saw her look so pretty before," returned Ida, and
her tone was full of self-praise for her goodness to Maria.

"Well, she will be a great deal happier," said Harry. "It was a
lonesome life for a child to lead."