buttons, really a beautiful dress, made in a becoming manner.
Kate looked at it in cheerful envy. Never mind! The coming
summer she would have a blue that would make that pink look silly.
From the dress she turned to Nancy Ellen, barely in time to see
her bend her head and smirk, broadly, smilingly, approvingly, at
her reflection in the glass.

"For mercy sake, what IS the matter with you?" demanded Kate,
ripping a strand of hair in sudden irritation.

"Oh, something lovely!" answered her sister, knowing that this was
her chance to impart the glad tidings herself; if she lost it,
Agatha would get the thrill of Kate's surprise. So Nancy Ellen
opened her drawer and slowly produced and set upon her bureau a
cabinet photograph of a remarkably strong-featured, handsome young
man. Then she turned to Kate and smiled a slow, challenging
smile. Kate walked over and picked up the picture, studying it
intently but in growing amazement.

"Who is he?" she asked finally.

"My man!" answered Nancy Ellen, possessively, triumphantly.

Kate stared at her. "Honest to God?" she cried in wonderment.

"Honest!" said Nancy Ellen.

"Where on earth did you find him?" demanded Kate.

"Picked him out of the blackberry patch," said Nancy Ellen.