The Mysterious Code

thousand years.”
    “Just wait and see.
We’ll get it before you try on dresses. I wish you would take more pride in
your appearance.”
    “Wait just a minute,
Moms. You’ve always told me not to grow up too soon,” Trixie said.
    “That was two years
ago, at least,” her mother said, exasperated. “I don’t want you to grow
up too soon, but I’d like to be able to tell the difference between you and
your brothers without straining my sight.”
     
    That afternoon in
Sleepyside Mrs. Belden made a few purchases before she picked up Trixie. A
girdle was one of them. Before Mrs. Belden and Trixie went into the Teen Town dress department, they went to the restroom where Mrs. Belden succeeded, with
many a protest from Trixie, in getting her daughter into the girdle. It slimmed
her waist amazingly.
    “Now we’ll look for
the dress,” Mrs. Belden said.
    “Don’t even pause at
the rack that has pink dresses,” Trixie said.
    “Why not?” her
mother asked. “I’ve always liked pink. Pink is pretty on blondes.”
    “Not on this
strawberry blonde,” Trixie said. The saleswoman slipped a pale pink dress over
Trixie’s head, zipped it, and Trixie turned to her mother. “See what I mean?”
she asked.
    “Don’t slump so.
Stand up straight,” her mother answered. “You’re just trying to make it look as
bad as you can. It’s a pretty dress.”
    “The dress is all
right,” Trixie said. “But look at it with my hair and my freckles.”
    “Pink isn’t exactly right,” her mother agreed reluctantly. “We’ll try the blue one,
please,” she said to the saleswoman.
    There was something
the matter with the blue one. There was also something the matter with the
yellow one, the striped one, and with the green one.
    “You can’t make a
swan out of me,” Trixie said, laughing. “You should have Honey for a daughter.
Sit down here, Moms. I’ll look around by myself. You’re tired. If I have to get a dress, I have to get one, I guess.”
    Trixie looked around
at all the racks in Teen Town, then she wandered over to the Young Flair shop.
“These aren’t quite so full-skirted,” she thought. “Maybe I’d look all right in
something just a little more streamlined.”
    She found a dress of
white knit. It was made very simply, with a stand-up collar and long sleeves.
The skirt was quite short, and it was an A-line style. Green crocheted trim
accented the collar and the wide cuffs.
    When Trixie slipped
it over her head and looked in the mirror, she couldn’t believe her eyes. “I
feel like the old woman in the Mother Goose rhyme,” she said to herself. “
‘Lack-a-mercy on me, this is none of I.’ I’ll show it to Moms.”
    Her mother’s
exclamation when she appeared was sufficient approval. “It’s the perfect
dress,” she said. “It’s time I turned you loose to select your own clothes.
Shall we go and find some white shoes that match it?”
    “Heavens, no, Moms,”
Trixie said. “I’ll get some bright green ones. Then I can wear them this summer
with cotton dresses.”
    Mrs. Belden held her
palms up and shrugged. “Green shoes, of course,” she said.
    When they had
finished their shopping, they went into the tearoom for a soda before starting
back home.
    There they found
Diana and her mother at a table and joined them. “We’ve been shopping for some
things for Diana’s party,” Mrs. Lynch explained, “favors, paper plates, a red
tablecloth, and cups—all Valentine things.”
    “We’ve been
shopping, too, for the party,” Trixie said. “A new dress!” she said excitedly.
“I never knew it could be so much fun to buy clothes. I won’t even tell you
what it’s like, Di. You’ll see at the party.” Trixie’s blue eyes twinkled.
“Moms may make a swan out of me yet. That would be a laugh, wouldn’t it?”
    “I don’t know who
would laugh,” Diana said. “Honey and I keep telling you that you’re getting
prettier every day.”
    Trixie reddened and
changed the subject. “I’d give anything to know who those other people were who
were with Bull Thompson when they stole the desk. Moms is relieved because Bull
Thompson is at reform school, but she’s still terribly worried about the
others.”
    “Maybe there aren’t
any others now, Trixie,” Diana said. “Bull Thompson was all alone when he tried
to break into Mrs. Vanderpoel’s house.”
    “We think he
was,” Trixie said. “I don’t know. Tad said that Bull’s Uncle Snipe Thompson is
an ex-convict and