Part 26 (1/2)

”No, truly I haven't. Mrs. Goodwin is such a dear, Blue Bonnet. She makes me think of my mother. She read to me--and cooked things for me, herself: the best milk toast, with cream on it; and to-day I had ice-cream--”

”You did? Well, that's more than we had. This was heavenly hash day!”

”I've had visitors, too; Miss North--she brought me those flowers over there--”

Blue Bonnet turned to look at two pink roses on a table by the bed.

”--and Fraulein--”

”Fraulein!”

”Yes--and she was real nice--as nice as _she_ could be, you know. Mary sent me this by Mrs. Goodwin--look!”

Carita brought from beneath her pillow a large, handsome sc.r.a.p book.

”Oh, a sc.r.a.p book!”

”A memory book,” Carita corrected. ”You put everything in it, you know; things to remind you of the school after you have graduated or gone away. I hope I'll get it awfully full. Oh, Blue Bonnet, I know I'm going to be so happy here--in the school. Everybody has been so good to me.”

A little mantle of shame spread over Blue Bonnet's face and dyed it a glowing red.

”And I'm doing penance for trying to thrust attention on Carita which she didn't need,” she thought.

But the penance--indeed, the mistake itself--had brought its reward: Blue Bonnet had learned her first lesson in faith.

Friday came, and Blue Bonnet watched the girls as they started for the Symphony concert. How pretty they looked!

Annabel had peeked in Blue Bonnet's room at the last minute, ostensibly to say good-by, but purposely to borrow the white fox m.u.f.f and a pair of gloves. Annabel was an inveterate borrower; not from any lack of clothes, but because she loved dress extravagantly.

”So sorry you can't go, dear,” she said. ”It's just awfully too bad!

There's to be a wonderful singer to-day--I can't seem to think of her name; it's one of those long Italian ones--but her clothes are perfect dreams. I'm dying to see her gown. If we get anywhere near Huyler's after the concert I'll bring you some candy. That's one reason I wanted your m.u.f.f; it holds such oceans. I think maybe we'll get into S. S.

Pierce's too. If we do, I'll stock up. My allowance came this morning; I'm feeling particularly opulent.”

With a nod and a wave she was off, and Blue Bonnet was left alone. She practised for a while, getting in a little extra time; it was a good chance with so many pianos idle.

She was deep in the intricacies of a sonata when the door of the practice-room opened, and Martha, Miss North's maid, entered.

”There's a gentleman to see you in the reception-room, Miss Ashe,” she said. ”Miss North says you may see him for fifteen minutes.”

”A gentleman! To see me?”

”Yes, Miss Ashe.”

”An old gentleman, Martha?”

”No--a young man.”

Blue Bonnet looked puzzled.