Part 14 (1/2)
The Boarder looked sheepish.
”You see, Amarilly, I'm akeepin' stiddy company with a little gal.”
”I seen you and her this arternoon. She's orful purty,” said Amarilly reflectively. ”She looked kinder delikit, though. What's her name?”
”Lily--Lily Rose. Ain't that a purty name?”
”Beautiful. The lily part jest suits her. She's like a flower--a white flower. But what do you want the surplus fer?”
”You see,” began the Boarder, coming by circuitous route to his subject, ”gals git notions in their heads sometimes when they air in--”
”Love,” promptly supplied the comprehending little girl.
”Yes,” he a.s.sented with a fiery blush. ”And she wants fer me to hev my likeness took so I kin give it to her.”
”Thar ain't nothin' foolish about that!” declared Amarilly.
”No; but I never sot fer one yet. I wouldn't mind, but you see she's got it in her head that I am good-looking--”
”Well, you be,” corroborated Amarilly decisively.
”And she wants me fer to dress up like a preacher. I told her about Hallie Hudgers lookin' so swell in the surplus, and she wants, as I should dress up in it and set fer my likeness in it.”
”I think it would be fine!” approved Amarilly. ”You sure would look nicer nor Hallie did.”
”Well, I wouldn't look like a dead one,” admitted the Boarder. ”But I was orful afraid you'd laugh. Then I kin rent it fer an hour to-morrer ef it ain't got no other dates.”
”You can't _rent_ it. You can take it fer an hour, or so long as you like,” she a.s.sured him.
”You'll hev to take a quarter anyway, fer luck. Mebby 'twill bring me luck awinnin' her.”
The photograph of the Boarder in saintly attire was p.r.o.nounced a great success. Before the presentation he had it set in a frame made of gilt network studded with sh.e.l.ls.
Lily Rose spent her leisure moments gazing upon it with the dream- centred eyes of a young devotee before a shrine.
The next wearing of the surplice was more in accord with its original design. In the precinct adjoining the one in which lived and let live the Jenkins family, a colored Episcopal church had recently been established. The rector had but one surplice, and that had been stolen from the clothes-line, mayhap by one of his dusky flock; thus it was that Amarilly received a call from the Reverend Virgil Was.h.i.+ngton, who had heard of the errant surplice, which he offered to purchase.
Naturally his proposition was met by a firm and unalterable refusal. It would have been like selling a golden goose to dispose of such a profitable commodity. He then asked to rent it for a Sunday while he was having one made. This application, being quite in Amarilly's line of business, met with a ready a.s.sent.
”You can hev it fer a dollar,” she offered.
The bargain was finally closed, although it gave Amarilly more than a pa.s.sing pang to think of the snowy folds of Mr. St. John's garment adorning an Ethiopian form.
One day there came to the Jenkins home a most unusual caller. The novel presence of the ”mailman” at their door brought every neighbor to post of observation. His call was for the purpose of leaving a gayly-colored postal card addressed to ”Miss Amarilly Jenkins.” It was from Derry, and she spent many happy moments in deciphering it. His writing was microscopic, and he managed to convey a great deal of information in the allotted small s.p.a.ce. He inquired solicitously concerning the surplice, and bade her be a good girl and not forget the two words he had taught her. ”I have ordered all my meals as though you were with me,” he wrote in conclusion.
Amarilly laid the card away with her wedding waist. Then, with the Boarder's aid, she indited an answer on a card that depicted the Barlow Theatre.
The next event for Amarilly was an invitation to attend the wedding of Mrs. Hubbleston, a buxom, bustling widow for whom Mrs. Jenkins washed.
In delivering the clothes, Amarilly had come to be on very friendly terms with the big, light-hearted woman, and so she had been asked to a.s.sist in the serving of refreshments on the eventful night.