Part 19 (2/2)

Miss Pike was too intent upon securing the object to give heed to the speaker's voice or recognize it.

”One-seventy-five! One-seventy-five! One-seventy-five! Going, going at one-seventy-five.”

”Two-seventy-five!”

”Ah! That's better. It would be a shame to sacrifice this set for a song. It is no ordinary set of garden implements, but a most superior quality of steel. Two-seventy-five; two-seventy-five--”

”Three! I must have them.” The last words were spoken to a bystander, but Madam Carruth's ears were sharp.

”Must you? Indeed! We'll see.”

One or two others, who began to believe that a rare article was about to slip from their possible grasp, now started in to bid, and in a few moments the price had bounded up to five dollars. The original cost of the set had been three. Then it went gayly skyward by leaps and bounds until in a reckless instant Miss Pike capped the climax with ten.

”Well if she wants to be such a fool she may,” exclaimed Madam Carruth. ”I could buy four sets for that money and sometimes even sentiment comes too high. I'd save 'em for your mother if I could, but sound sense tells me she can make better use of a ten-dollar bill than of a half-dozen pieces of old ironmongery. That Pike woman always _was_ a fool.”

”Gone for ten dollars!” cried the auctioneer at that instant. Miss Pike's face was radiant. She was about to turn away when Jean made her way through the crowd to her side crying:

”Did you really get them, Miss Pike? mother'll be so glad. When we were talking about selling these things she almost cried when she spoke about the garden tools and the lamp----”

”_What_ lamp, child? Oh these heartrending changes! Tell me what the lamp is like. If it can be saved I'll save it for her. I can't understand _why_ your sisters permitted the objects, around which the tendrils of your mother's heart were so entwined, to be put up for sale. To me it seems a positive sacrilege.”

”But mother made them do it. She wouldn't let----and, oh, there's the lamp now. That one with the bronze bird on it, see?”

”Oh, the tender memories that must cl.u.s.ter about it. I will hold them sacred for her. They shall not be desecrated. Stand beside me, child.

I shall bid that in for your dear mother.”

Again the lively contest for possession was on, although the sums named did not mount by such startling bounds as in the case of the garden tools. Still, more than four dollars had been offered before Miss Pike, in flattering imitation of a large New York department store, offered $4.99, and became the triumphant owner of it. Miss Pike had a small income, but was by no means given to flinging her dollars to the winds. So it was not surprising that many who knew her marveled at the sums she was spending for her two purchases. Having paid her bill she promptly took possession of her lamp and her case of garden tools and stalked off through the throng of people in quest of Constance whom she found talking to a group of schoolmates near the ruins of the old home.

”Congratulate me! Congratulate me! I've saved the treasures from the vandals! I've rescued them from sacrilegious hands. Behold! Take them to your mother with my dearest love. I had a struggle to get them, for some woman was determined to secure that garden set But _I_ came off victorious. I had to do battle royal, but I conquered. Now, my dear, when you go home take them with you. They _did_ come rather high; I had to pay ten dollars for the garden set, but I got the lamp for less than five!--four ninety-nine. But you need not pay me until it is _perfectly_ convenient. Don't let it worry you for a moment. I am repaid for the time being in the thought that I secured them for your mother. I knew she would rather pay twice the sum than see them fall into the hands of utter strangers. Good-bye, my dear, I must hurry home, for I have been absent too long already.”

As Miss Pike departed, Constance dropped upon the carriage step, which, being of stone, had survived flame and flood. Upon the ground before her lay their own garden set, and stood their own lamp for which her mother would have to return to Jerusha Pike, fourteen dollars and ninety-nine cents owing to that lady's unbridled zeal. She looked at them a moment, then glancing up at her friends whose faces were studies, the absurdity of the situation overcame her and them also, and peals of laughter echoed upon the wintry air.

”Who was it that said 'Save me from my friends!' Connie?” asked a girl friend.

Constance looked unspeakable things. Then bounding to her feet she cried:

”Well, it's lucky we can return her own money to her, but that settles it. It might have been worse anyway. I've been on the fence for several days without knowing which way to jump. _Now_ I do know, and Miss Pike has given the push. It's been a case of:

'Our doubts are traitors And make us lose the good we oft might win By fearing to attempt.'

”There, Belle, is a quotation to match yours, and bear in mind what I say: I'm going to live up to it. Now I'm going home. Come on, you people, and help me lug these treasures there,” and off the laughing procession set, each girl or lad burdened with some article of the purchases, Constance leading the way with the lamp, and all singing:

'Doubt thou the stars are fire, Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar, Doubt _not_ Jerusha's love.'

”I don't think I ever shall, but perhaps she has helped in one way, since she has settled _my_ doubts, and the next thing you people hear of me may make you open your eyes. No, I won't tell you a single thing. Just wait until next week, then you'll see.”

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