Aunt Caroline's Silk Dress

"Aunt Caroline's Silk Dress" is a poignant short story by Lucy Maud Montgomery, centered around a young girl named Laura who is deeply influenced by the memory of her beloved Aunt Caroline. The narrative explores themes of nostalgia, longing, and the impact of personal memory through the lens of Laura's admiration for her aunt's beautiful silk dress. As Laura grapples with her feelings of loss and the significance of the dress, the story reflects Montgomery's signature style of intertwining emotional depth with vivid, descriptive imagery, ultimately capturing the complexities of familial bonds and the passage of time.

• Short story

								
Patty came in from her walk to the post office with cheeks finely
reddened by the crisp air. Carry surveyed her with pleasure. Of late
Patty's cheeks had been entirely too pale to please Carry, and Patty
had not had a very good appetite. Once or twice she had even
complained of a headache. So Carry had sent her to the office for a
walk that night, although the post office trip was usually Carry's own
special constitutional, always very welcome to her after a weary day
of sewing on other people's pretty dresses.

Carry never sewed on pretty dresses for herself, for the simple reason
that she never had any pretty dresses. Carry was twenty-two--and
feeling forty, her last pretty dress had been when she was a girl of
twelve, before her father had died. To be sure, there was the silk
organdie Aunt Kathleen had sent her, but that was fit only for
parties, and Carry never went to any parties.

"Did you get any mail, Patty?" she asked unexpectantly. There was
never much mail for the Lea girls.

"Yes'm," said Patty briskly. "Here's the Weekly Advocate, and a
patent medicine almanac with all your dreams expounded, and a letter
for Miss Carry M. Lea. It's postmarked Enfield, and has a suspiciously
matrimonial look. I'm sure it's an invitation to Chris Fairley's
wedding. Hurry up and see, Caddy."

Carry, with a little flush of excitement on her face, opened her
letter. Sure enough, it contained an invitation "to be present at the
marriage of Christine Fairley."

"How jolly!" exclaimed Patty. "Of course you'll go, Caddy. You'll have
a chance to wear that lovely organdie of yours at last."

"It was sweet of Chris to invite me," said Carry. "I really didn't
expect it."

"Well, I did. Wasn't she your most intimate friend when she lived in
Enderby?"

"Oh, yes, but it is four years since she left, and some people might
forget in four years. But I might have known Chris wouldn't. Of course
I'll go."

"And you'll make up your organdie?"

"I shall have to," laughed Carry, forgetting all her troubles for a
moment, and feeling young and joyous over the prospect of a festivity.
"I haven't another thing that would do to wear to a wedding. If I
hadn't that blessed organdie I couldn't go, that's all."

"But you have it, and it will look lovely made up with a tucked skirt.
Tucks are so fashionable now. And there's that lace of mine you can
have for a bertha. I want you to look just right, you see. Enfield is
a big place, and there will be lots of grandees at the wedding. Let's
get the last fashion sheet and pick out a design right away. Here's
one on the very first page that would be nice. You could wear it to
perfection, Caddy you're so tall and slender. It wouldn't suit a plump
and podgy person like myself at all."

Carry liked the pattern, and they had an animated discussion over it.
But, in the end, Carry sighed, and pushed the sheet away from her,
with all the brightness gone out of face.

"It's no use, Patty. I'd forgotten for a few minutes, but it's all
come back now. I can't think of weddings and new dresses, when the
thought of that interest crowds everything else out. It's due next
month--fifty dollars--and I've only ten saved up. I can't make forty
dollars in a month, even if I had any amount of sewing, and you know
hardly anyone wants sewing done just now. I don't know what we shall
do. Oh, I suppose we can rent a couple of rooms in the village and
exist in them. But it breaks my heart to think of leaving our old
home."

"Perhaps Mr. Kerr will let us have more time," suggested Patty, not
very hopefully. The sparkle had gone out of her face too. Patty loved
their little home as much as Carry did.

"You know he won't. He has been only too anxious for an excuse to
foreclose, this long time. He wants the land the house is on. Oh, if I
only hadn't been sick so long in the summer--just when everybody had
sewing to do. I've tried so hard to catch up, but I couldn't." Carry's
voice broke in a sob.

Patty leaned over the table and patted her sister's glossy dark hair
gently.

"You've worked too hard, dearie. You've just gone to skin and bone.
Oh, I know how hard it is! I can't bear to think of leaving this dear
old spot either. If we could only induce Mr. Kerr to give us a year's
grace! I'd be teaching then, and we could easily pay the interest and
some of the principal too. Perhaps he will if we both go to him and
coax very hard. Anyway, don't worry over it till after the wedding. I
want you to go and have a good time. You never have good times,
Carry."

"Neither do you," said Carry rebelliously. "You never have anything
that other girls have, Patty--not even pretty clothes."

"Deed, and I've lots of things to be thankful for," said Patty
cheerily. "Don't you fret about me. I'm vain enough to think I've got
some brains anyway, and I'm a-meaning to do something with them too.
Now I think I'll go upstairs and study this evening. It will be warm
enough there tonight, and the noise of the machine rather bothers me."

Patty whisked out, and Carry knew she should go to her sewing. But she
sat a long while at the table in dismal thought. She was so tired, and
so hopeless. It had been such a hard struggle, and it seemed now as if
it would all come to naught. For five years, ever since her mother's
death, Carry had supported herself and Patty by dressmaking. They had
been a hard five years of pinching and economizing and going without,
for Enderby was only a small place, and there were two other
dressmakers. Then there was always the mortgage to devour everything.
Carry had kept it at bay till now, but at last she was conquered. She
had had typhoid fever in the spring and had not been able to work for
a long time. Indeed, she had gone to work before she should. The
doctor's bill was yet unpaid, but Dr. Hamilton had told her to take
her time. Carry knew she would not be pressed for that, and next year
Patty would be able to help her. But next year would be too late. The
dear little home would be lost then.

When Carry roused herself from her sad reflections, she saw a crumpled
note lying on the floor. She picked it up and absently smoothed it
out. Seeing Patty's name at the top she was about to lay it aside
without reading it, but the lines were few, and the sense of them
flashed into Carry's brain. The note was an invitation to Clare
Forbes's party! The Lea girls had known that the Forbes girls were
going to give a party, but they had not expected that Patty would be
invited. Of course, Clare Forbes was in Patty's class at school and
was always very nice and friendly with her. But then the Forbes set
was not the Lea set.

Carry ran upstairs to Patty's room. "Patty, you dropped this on the
floor. I couldn't help seeing what it was. Why didn't you tell me
Clare had invited you?"

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