George laughed. “Not at all. I hate it too.”
“It’s also too loose,” Lily observed sympathetically. “Or have you lost weight recently?”
“No, he made Martha buy it for me in the village while my back was turned. I expect there wasn’t much choice. But I couldn’t care less about fashion. I don’t want to weardresses at all. They’re not at all comfortable, and they’re so... so flimsy and fragile. I feel naked wearing them.”
The two sisters exchanged glances. “Naked? I’ve never noticed that,” Lily said.
“Well, you probably haven’t worn breeches. When I put this dress on this morning—only because he threatened to starve me—I felt so... exposed.”
Rose nodded. “The neckline?”
“Yes, but mainly around the legs. There aredrafts,” she said darkly.
“But your legs are completely covered,” Lily said, puzzled.
George grinned. “They are now.” She pulled up her skirts and revealed the breeches and boots she wore underneath.
Rose and Lily exclaimed—they were clearly a bit shocked—but they begged George to put her boy’s clothes on so they could see how she looked.
George was happy to oblige and when she was fully dressed, they made her walk up and down in front of them. “You really do look like a boy,” Lily said in wonder.
George shrugged. “I don’t care about that—I don’t mind being a girl, but breeches are warmer and more comfortable and much better for riding. Why should we freeze in flimsy bits of nothing, while men are warm and comfortable?”
“Can I try them on?” Rose asked. “We’re about the same size.”
George handed her a pair of breeches. Rose stripped off her dress and in minutes was standing in front of the looking glass, staring at her reflection. Then she swaggered around the room in the boots.
George grinned. “More comfortable, aren’t they?”
Rose grimaced. “I’m not sure. They feel a little strange.”
“You get used to them.”
“Lily, why don’t you try them on?” her sister suggested.
“They won’t fit me,” Lily said. “I’m too fat.”
“No, you’re not,” George and Rose said at the same time. “You’re curvy and feminine,” George added, and Rose gave her a little nod of approval.
“Here, try these ones on.” George handed her the loosest pair of breeches, and Lily squeezed into them.
“What do you think?”
“They suit you,” George told her. “How do you feel? Comfortable, aren’t they?”
“A bit tight, but otherwise...” Lily pranced and wriggled, and pulled some he-man poses that made them all laugh. “They feel delightfully naughty.”
Rose frowned. “Yes, but nobody would ever mistake you for a boy.”
George turned to her in surprise. “What does that matter?”
Rose smiled. “It doesn’t. Now we’d better get changed back into our dresses. If Cal discovers your breeches he’ll probably confiscate them.”
They slipped back into their dresses. “Why are you both wearing black?” George asked. “Your aunt too.”
“We’re in mourning for our father, Aunt Dottie’s brother,” Lily explained.
“And after that we’ll be in mourning for our uncle Henry. Another wholeyear,” Rose said savagely. She paused. “But Uncle Henry was your father, wasn’t he? So why aren’tyouwearing black?”
