You're going to wear plain black clothes and not dance any more.

It wouldn't be respectable any way, seeing they may catch father any day, and the least we can do is sort of to go into mourning." Christa stood bright and beautiful as a child of the morning, and heard the sentence of this long night passed upon her; but instead of looking plaintive, a curiously hard look of necessary acquiescence came about the lines of her cherry lips.

Ann was startled by it; she had expected Christa to bemoan herself, and in this look she recognised that the younger sister had an element of character like her own, was perhaps growing to be what she had become.

The quality that she honestly admired in herself appeared disgusting to her in pretty Christa, yet she went on to persuade and explain; it was necessary.
"We can't dance, Christa, for no one would dance with us; we can't wear flowers in our hats, for no one would admire them.

I suppose you have the sense to see that?
The men that come here are a pretty easy-going rough lot, but they draw a line somewhere.