Part 29 (1/2)
”But what a good time they've had!” exulted Miss Maggie.
”Yes. And didn't it do your soul good to see Mellicent? But Jane--Jane nearly had a fit. She told Mellicent that all this gayety was nothing but froth and flimsiness and vexation of spirit. That she knew it because she'd been all through it when she was young, and she knew the vanity of it. And Mellicent--what do you suppose that child said?”
”I can't imagine,” smiled Miss Maggie.
”She said SHE wanted to see the vanity of it, too. Pretty cute of her, too, wasn't it? Still it's just as well she's gone back to school, I think myself. She's been repressed and held back so long, that when she did let loose, it was just like cutting the puckering string of a bunched-up ruffle--she flew in all directions, and there was no holding her back anywhere; and I suppose she has been a bit foolish and extravagant in the things she's asked for. Poor dear, though, she did get one setback.”
”What do you mean?” ”Did she tell you about the present for her mother?”
”That she was going to get it--yes.”
Across the room Mr. Smith looked up suddenly.
”Well, she got it.” Miss Flora's thin lips snapped grimly over the terse words. ”But she had to take it back.”
”Take it back!” cried Miss Maggie.
”Yes. And 'twas a beauty--one of them light purple stones with two pearls. Mellicent showed it to me--on the way home from the store, you know. And she was so pleased over it! 'Oh, I don't mind the saving all those years now,' she cried, 'when I see what a beautiful thing they've let me get for mother' And she went off so happy she just couldn't keep her feet from dancing.”
'”I can imagine it,” nodded Miss Maggie.
”Well, in an hour she was back. But what a difference! All the light and happiness and springiness were gone. She was almost crying. She still carried the little box in her hand. 'I'm takin' it back,' she choked. 'Mother doesn't like it.' 'Don't like that beautiful pin!' says I. 'What does she want?'
”'Oh, yes, she liked the pin,' said Mellicent, all teary; 'she thinks it's beautiful. But she doesn't want anything. She says she never heard of such foolish goings-on--paying all that money for a silly, useless pin. I--I told her 'twas a PRESENT from me, but she made me take it back. I'm on my way now back to the store. I'm to get the money, if I can. If I can't, I'm to get a credit slip. Mother says we can take it up in forks and spoons and things we need. I--I told her 'twas a present, but--' She couldn't say another word, poor child. She just turned and almost ran from the room. That was last night. She went away this morning, I suppose. I didn't see her again, so I don't know how she did come out with the store-man.”
”Too bad--too bad!” sympathized Miss Maggie. (Over at the table Mr.
Smith had fallen to writing furiously, with vicious little jabs of his pencil.) ”But Jane never did believe in present-giving. They never gave presents to each other even at Christmas. She always called it a foolish, wasteful practice, and Mellicent was always SO unhappy Christmas morning!”
”I know it. And that's just what the trouble is. Don't you see? Jane never let 'em take even comfort, and now that they CAN take some comfort, Jane's got so out of the habit, she don't know how to begin.”
”Careful, careful, Flora!” laughed Miss Maggie. ”I don't think YOU can say much on that score.”
”Why, Maggie Duff, I'M taking comfort,” bridled Miss Flora. ”Didn't I have chicken last week and turkey three weeks ago? And do I ever skimp the b.u.t.ter or hunt for cake-rules with one egg now? And ain't I going to Niagara and have a phonograph and move into a fine place just as soon as my mourning is up? You wait and see!”
”All right, I'll wait,” laughed Miss Maggie. Then, a bit anxiously, she asked: ”Did Fred go to-day?”
”Yes, looking fine as a fiddle, too. I was sweeping off the steps when he went by the house. He stopped and spoke. Said he was going in now for real work--that he'd played long enough. He said he wouldn't be good for a row of pins if he had many such weeks as this had been.”
”I'm glad he realized it,” observed Miss Maggie grimly. ”I suppose the g.a.y.l.o.r.d young people went, too.”
”Hibbard did, but Pearl doesn't go till next week. She isn't in the same school with Bess, you know. It's even grander than Bess's they say. Hattie wants to get Bess into it next year. Oh, I forgot; we've got to call her 'Elizabeth' now. Did you know that?”
Miss Maggie shook her head.
”Well, we have. Hattie says nicknames are all out now, and that 'Elizabeth' is very stylish and good form and the only proper thing to call her. She says we must call her 'Harriet,' too. I forgot that.”
”And Benny 'Benjamin'?” smiled Miss Maggie.
”Yes. And Jim 'James.' But I'm afraid I shall forget--sometimes.”
”I'm afraid--a good many of us will,” laughed Miss Maggie.
”It all came from them g.a.y.l.o.r.ds, I believe,” sniffed Flora. ”I don't think much of 'em; but Hattie seems to. I notice she don't put nothin'