Part 21 (2/2)
Sitting in its soft shelter, she told all about it, and coming to the end said, as she took up the jewel-box, unpacked with the other generous gifts:--
”I haven't a thing to put in it, but I shall value it because it taught me a lesson which I hope I never shall forget. See what a pretty thing it is;” and opening it, Daisy gave a cry of surprise and joy, for there lay the golden rose, with Laura's name and ”Sub rosa” on a slip of paper.
”The dear thing! she knew I wanted it, and that is what she meant by 'secrets.' I'll write and tell her mine to-morrow.”
”Here is something more,” said Janey, who had been lifting the tray while her sister examined the long-desired flower.
A pair of real gold bangles shone before her delighted eyes, and a card in Mr. Vaughn's handwriting bore these words: ”Handcuffs for the thief who stole the pocketbook.”
Daisy hardly had time to laugh gayly at the old gentleman's joke, when Janey cried out, as she opened the little drawer, ”Here's another!”
It was a note from Mrs. Vaughn, but all thought it the greatest treasure of the three, for it said briefly,--
”DEAR DAISY,--Mary told me some of your secrets, and I found out the others. Forgive me and go to Europe with Laura, in May. Your visit was a little test. You stood it well, and we want to know more of you. The little box is not quite empty, but the best jewels are the self-denial, sweet charity, and good sense you put in yourself.
”Your friend, A. V.”
Daisy could not speak, and her mother looked into the box with eyes full of tender tears, while Janey danced about them, clas.h.i.+ng the bangles like a happy little bayadere, till her sister found her voice again.
Pointing to a great, bright tear that shone on the blue velvet, she said, with her cheek against her mother's: ”I always wanted a real diamond, and there's a more precious one than any I could buy. Now I'm sure my jewel-box _is_ full.”
[Ill.u.s.tration]
CORNY'S CATAMOUNT
Two boys sat on the bars, one whittling, the other whistling,--not for want of thought by any means, for his brow was knit in an anxious frown, and he paused now and then to thump the rail, with an impatient exclamation. The other lad appeared to be absorbed in shaping an arrow from the slender stick in his hand, but he watched his neighbor with a grin, saying a few words occasionally which seemed to add to his irritation, though they were in a sympathizing tone.
”Oh, well, if a chap can't do a thing he can't; and he'd better give up and say, 'Beat.'”
”But I won't give up, and I never say 'Beat.' I'm not going to be laughed out of it, and I'll do what I said I would, if it takes all summer, Chris Warner.”
”You'll have to be pretty spry, then, for there's only two more days to August,” replied the whittler, shutting one eye to look along his arrow and see if it was true.
”I intend to be spry, and if you won't go and blab, I'll tell you a plan I made last night.”
”Guess you can trust me. I've heard about a dozen plans now, and never told one of 'em.”
”They all failed, so there was nothing to tell. But this one is _not_ going to fail, if I die for it. I feel that it's best to tell some one, because it is really dangerous; and if anything _should_ happen to me, as is very likely, it would save time and trouble.”
”Don't seem to feel anxious a mite. But I'll stand ready to pick up the pieces, if you come to grief.”
”Now, Chris, it's mean of you to keep on making fun when I'm in dead earnest; and this may be the last thing you can do for me.”
”Wait till I get out my handkerchief; if you're going to be affectin' I may want it. Granite's cheap up here; just mention what you'd like on your tombstone and I'll see that it's done, if it takes my last cent.”
The big boy in the blue overalls spoke with such a comical drawl that the slender city lad could not help laughing, and with a slap that nearly sent his neighbor off his perch, Corny said good-naturedly:
<script>