I do love to imagine I 'm nice and plump , with dimples in my elbows . '' With this Matthew 's companion stopped talking , partly because she was out of breath and partly because they had reached the buggy . Not another word did she say until they had left the village and were driving down a steep little hill , the road part of which had been cut so deeply into the soft soil , that the banks , fringed with blooming wild cherry-trees and slim white birches , were several feet above their heads . The child put out her hand and broke off a branch of wild plum that brushed against the side of the buggy . `` Is n't that beautiful ? What did that tree , leaning out from the bank , all white and lacy , make you think of ? '' she asked . `` Well now , I dunno , '' said Matthew . `` Why , a bride , of course -- a bride all in white with a lovely misty veil . I 've never seen one , but I can imagine what she would look like . I do n't ever expect to be a bride myself . I 'm so homely nobody will ever want to marry me -- unless it might be a foreign missionary . I suppose a foreign missionary might n't be very particular . But I do hope that some day I shall have a white dress . That is my highest ideal of earthly bliss . I just love pretty clothes . And I 've never had a pretty dress in my life that I can remember -- but of course it 's all the more to look forward to , is n't it ? And then I can imagine that I 'm dressed gorgeously . This morning when I left the asylum I felt so ashamed because I had to wear this horrid old wincey dress . All the orphans had to wear them , you know .
A merchant in Hopeton last winter donated three hundred yards of XXXXX to the asylum .
Matthew breath cherry-trees course day dimples lacy left village wincey