Until the trinket came back from Boston, therefore, he must
bide his time with patience.
Nevertheless the logic of these arguments did not prevent him from
turning sharply toward the door of the workshop whenever there was a
footfall on the grass. Any day, any hour, any moment the lady of his
dreams might appear once more. Had not Willie said that she sometimes
trimmed bonnets for Tiny? And was it not possible, yea, even likely
that his aunt might be needing a bonnet right away. Women were always
needing bonnets, argued the young man vaguely; at least, both his
mother and sister were, and he had not yet lived long enough in his
aunt's household to realize that with Tiny Morton the purchase of a
bonnet was not an equally casual enterprise. He even had the temerity
to ask Celestina when he saw her arrayed for the grange one afternoon
why she did not have a hat with pink in it and was chagrined to receive
the reply that she did not like pink; and that anyway her hat was well
enough as it was, and she shouldn't have another for a good couple of
years.
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