onct."

"Couldn't you rent a suit?" asked Amarilly, her ruling passion for
business still dominating.

"No; I jest can't, Amarilly. It's costin' me too much now."

"I know it is," sympathized Amarilly, concentrating her mind on the
puzzling solution of Hallie's habiliment.

"Mrs. Hudgers," she exclaimed suddenly, "why can't you put the surplus
on Hallie? You kin slip it on over his suit, and when the funeral's
over, and they hev all looked at the corpse, you kin take it offen him."

"Oh, that would be sweet!" cried Mrs. Hudgers, brightening perceptibly.
"Hallie would look beautiful in it, and 'twould be diffrent from any one
else's funeral. How you allers think of things, Amarilly! But I ain't
got no dollar to pay you fer it."

"If you did hev one," replied Amarilly Indignantly, "I shouldn't let you
pay fer it. We're neighbors, and what I kin do fer Hallie I want ter
do."

"Well, Amarilly, it's certainly fine fer you to feel that way. You don't
think," she added with sudden apprehension, "that they'd think the
surplus was Hallie's nightshirt, do you?"

"Oh, no!" protested Amarilly, shocked at such a supposition. "Besides,
you kin tell them all that Hallie's laid out in a surplus. They all seen
them to the concert."