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“
Those
are
not
mine
,
”
she
said
.
“
Mine
are
black
.
”
She
looked
the
thick
white
wool
coat
and
dress
over
,
and
added
with
cool
approval
:
“
Those
are
nicer
than
mine
.
”
“
These
are
th
’
ones
tha
’
must
put
on
,
”
Martha
answered
.
“
Mr
.
Craven
ordered
Mrs
.
Medlock
to
get
’
em
in
London
.
He
said
‘
I
won
’
t
have
a
child
dressed
in
black
wanderin
’
about
like
a
lost
soul
,
’
he
said
.
‘
It
’
d
make
the
place
sadder
than
it
is
.
Put
color
on
her
.
’
Mother
she
said
she
knew
what
he
meant
.
Mother
always
knows
what
a
body
means
.
She
doesn
’
t
hold
with
black
hersel
’
.
”
“
I
hate
black
things
,
”
said
Mary
.
The
dressing
process
was
one
which
taught
them
both
something
.
Martha
had
“
buttoned
up
”
her
little
sisters
and
brothers
but
she
had
never
seen
a
child
who
stood
still
and
waited
for
another
person
to
do
things
for
her
as
if
she
had
neither
hands
nor
feet
of
her
own
.
“
Why
doesn
’
t
tha
’
put
on
tha
’
own
shoes
?
”
she
said
when
Mary
quietly
held
out
her
foot
.
“
My
Ayah
did
it
,
”
answered
Mary
,
staring
.
“
It
was
the
custom
.
”
She
said
that
very
often
—
“
It
was
the
custom
.
”
The
native
servants
were
always
saying
it
.
If
one
told
them
to
do
a
thing
their
ancestors
had
not
done
for
a
thousand
years
they
gazed
at
one
mildly
and
said
,
“
It
is
not
the
custom
”
and
one
knew
that
was
the
end
of
the
matter
.
