Prissy herself was a pretty girl--at least most people thought so.
I can't honestly say I ever admired her style much myself.
I like something with more vim and snap to it. Prissy was slim
and pink, with soft, appealing blue eyes, and pale gold hair
all clinging in baby rings around her face. She was just as meek
and timid as she looked and there wasn't a bit of harm in her.
I always liked Prissy, even if I didn't admire her looks as much
as some people did.
Anyway, it was plain her style suited Stephen Clark. He began
to drive her, and there wasn't a speck of doubt that Prissy
liked him. Then Emmeline just put a stopper on the affair.
It was pure cantankerousness in her. Stephen was
a good match and nothing could be said against him.
But Emmeline was just determined that Prissy shouldn't marry.
She couldn't get married herself, and she was sore enough about it.
Of course, if Prissy had had a spark of spirit she wouldn't
have given in. But she hadn't a mite; I believe she would
have cut off her nose if Emmeline had ordered her to do it.
She was just her mother over again. If ever a girl belied her name,
Prissy Strong did. There wasn't anything strong about her.
One night, when prayer meeting came out, Stephen stepped
up to Prissy as usual and asked if he might see her home.
Pages:
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255