Part 21 (1/2)
So in they went, and after due consideration, the cloak was bought and ordered home,--both girls feeling that it was a little ceremony full of love and good will; for Mary's time was money, yet she gave it gladly, and Daisy's purse was left empty of all but the good-luck penny, which was to bring still greater happiness in unsuspected ways.
Another secret was put away in the empty jewel-box, and the cloak hidden in Daisy's trunk; for she felt shy of telling her little business transactions, lest the Vaughns should consider her extravagant. But the thought of mother's surprise and pleasure warmed her heart, and made the last days of her visit the happiest. Being a mortal girl she did give a sigh as she tied a bit of black velvet round her white throat, instead of the necklace, which seemed really a treasure, now it was gone; and she looked with great disfavor at the shabby little pin, worn where she had fondly hoped to see the golden rose. She put a real one in its place, and never knew that her own fresh, happy face was as lovely; for the thought of the two mothers made comfortable by her was better than all the pearls and diamonds that fell from the lips of the good girl in the fairy tale.
”Let me help you pack your trunk; I love to cram things in, and dance on the lid when it won't shut,” said Laura, joining her friend next day, just as she had got the cloak-box well hidden under a layer of clothes.
”Thank you, I'm almost done, and rather like to fuss over my own things in my own way. You won't mind if I give this pretty box of handkerchiefs to mother, will you, dear? I have so many things, I must go halves with some one. The muslin ap.r.o.n and box of bonbons are for Janey, because she can't wear the gloves, and this lovely _jabot_ is too old for her,” said Daisy, surveying her new possessions with girlish satisfaction.
”Do what you like with your own. Mamma has a box of presents for your people. She is packing it now, but I don't believe you can get it in; your trunk is so much fuller than when you came. This must go in a safe place, or your heart will break,” and Laura took up the jewel-box, adding with a laugh, as she opened it, ”you haven't filled it, after all! What did you do with papa's gold piece?”
”That's a secret. I'll tell some day, but not yet,” said Daisy, diving into her trunk to hide the color in her cheeks.
”Sly thing! I know you've got silver spiders and filagree racquets, and Rhine-stone moons and stars stowed away somewhere and won't confess it.
I wanted to fill this box, but mamma said you'd do it better yourself, so I let it alone; but I was afraid you'd think I was a selfish pig, to have a pin for every day in the month and never give you one,” said Laura, as she looked at the single tarnished brooch reposing on the satin cus.h.i.+on. ”Where's your chain?” she added, before Daisy could speak.
”It is safe enough. I'm tired of it, and don't care if I never see it again.” And Daisy packed away, and laughed as she smoothed the white dress in its tray, remembering that it was paid for by the sale of the old necklace.
”Give it to me, then. I like it immensely; it's so odd. I'll exchange for anything of mine you choose. Will you?” asked Laura, who seemed bent on asking inconvenient questions.
”I shall have to tell, or she will think me very ungrateful,”--and Daisy felt a pang of regret even then, for Laura's offer was a generous one.
”Like G. W., 'I cannot tell a lie;' so I must 'fess' that I sold the old thing, and spent the money for something I wanted very much,--not jewelry, but something to give away.”
Daisy was spared further confessions by the entrance of Mrs. Vaughn, with a box in her hand.
”I have room for something more. Give me that, Laura, it will just fit in;” and taking the little casket, she added, ”Mary White wants to try on your dress, dear. Go at once; I will help Daisy.”
Laura went, and her mother stood looking down at the kneeling girl with an expression of affectionate satisfaction which would have puzzled Daisy, had she seen it.
”Has the visit been a pleasant one, my dear?”
”Oh, very! I can't thank you enough for the good it has done me. I hope I can pay a little of the debt next summer, if you come our way again,”
cried Daisy, looking up with a face full of grat.i.tude.
”We shall probably go to Europe for the summer. Laura is a good age for it now, and we shall all enjoy it.”
”How splendid! We shall miss you dreadfully, but I'm glad you are going, and I hope Laura will find time to write me now and then. I shall want to know how she likes the 'foreign parts' we've talked about so much.”
”You _shall_ know. We won't forget you, my dear,” and with a caressing touch on the smiling yet wistful face upturned to hers, Mrs. Vaughn went away to pack the empty jewel-box, leaving Daisy to drop a few irrepressible tears on the new gown, over the downfall of her summer hopes, and the longings all girls feel for that enchanted world that lies beyond the sea.
”We shall see you before we go, so we won't gush now,” said Laura, as she bade her friend good-by, adding in a whisper, ”Some folks can have secrets as well as other folks, and be as sly. So don't think you have all the fun to yourself, you dear, good, generous darling.”
Daisy looked bewildered, and Mrs. Vaughn added to her surprise by kissing her very warmly as she said:
”I wanted to find a good friend for my spoiled girl, and I think I have succeeded.”
There was no time for explanation, and all the way home Daisy kept wondering what they meant. But she forgot everything when she saw the dear faces beaming at the door, and ran straight into her mother's arms, while Janey hugged the trunk till her turn came for something better.
When the first raptures were over, out came the cloak; and Daisy was well repaid for her little trials and sacrifices when she was folded in it as her mother held her close, and thanked her as mothers only can.