Henry Handel Richardson

“ The ponies shook and tossed their heads at the constant sawing of the bits, and Laura had to be continually ducking, to keep out of the way of the reins. She let the unfamiliar streets go past her in a kind of dream; and there was silence for a time, broken only by Godmother’s expostulations with the ponies, till Cousin Grace, growing tired of playing her bright eyes first on this, then on that, brought them back to Laura and studied her up and down. ”

“ The ponies won’t stand.”
Godmother was driving herself—a low basket-carriage, harnessed to two buff-coloured ponies. Laura sat with her back to them. Godmother flapped the reins and said: “Get up!” but she was still fretted about the box, which was being held on behind by the boy. An inch larger, she asserted, and it would have had to be left behind. Laura eyed its battered sides uneasily. Godmother might remember, she thought, that it contained her whole wardrobe; and she wondered how many of Godmother’s own ample gowns could be compressed into so small a space. ”

“ The banisters were as thick as your arm, and on each side of the stair-carpeting the space was broad enough for two to walk abreast: what a splendid game of trains you could have played there! On the other hand the landing windows were so high up that only a giant could have seen out of them. ”

“ Here, at last, was her chance. “But it really doesn’t matter a bit. I can go to another church quite well. I even think I’d rather. For a change. And the service isn’t so long, at least so I’ve heard—except the sermon,” she added truthfully.
Had she denied religion altogether, the look Mrs. Gurley bent on her could not have been more annihilating.
“There is—unfortunately!—no occasion, for you to do anything of the kind,” she retorted. “I myself, am an Episcopalian, and I expect those gels, who belong to the Church of England, to attend it, with me.” ”

“ She looks well enough,” threw in Godmother in her snappish way. But Laura was sure that she, too disapproved; and felt more than she heard the muttered remark about “Jane always having had a taste for something gay.”
“Oh, I like the colour very much. I chose it myself,” said Laura, and looked straight at the two faces before her. But her lips twitched. She would have liked to snatch the hat from her head, to throw it in front of the ponies and hear them trample it under their hoofs. She had never wanted the scarlet lining of the big, upturned brim ”