Shoes.
Slippers.
Sailor Hat.
Gloves. P.F.M.
"That"s short enough now! All the fripperies cut out, and the dull necessities left. I can get these, I suppose, Mardie?"
Miss Margaret believed that she could "with care", whereupon Mildred wrinkled her saucy nose, and said she should never have any respect for twenty-five shillings again, since it appeared that so very little could be obtained in exchange.
The shopping expedition was a great success, however, in spite of all drawbacks. The purchases were pretty and good of their kind, and Mildred felt an agreeable sense of virtue in having chosen useful things rather than ornamental. She had still a little plan of her own which she was anxious to execute before returning home, and took the opportunity to make a request while waiting for change in a large drapery establishment.
"I want to go to another department, Mardie. Do you mind if I leave you for a few minutes?"
"Not at all. I have some little things to get too. Suppose we arrange to meet at the door in ten minutes from now?"
Mildred dashed off in her usual impetuous fashion, but presently came to a standstill before a long, gla.s.s-covered counter, on which was displayed a fascinating a.s.sortment of silver and enamel goods. For the first few moments the a.s.sistant in charge took no further notice than a glance of kindly admiration. School-girls in short dresses, and with clouds of golden hair hanging loose round their shoulders, are not given to the purchase of valuable articles such as these; but Mildred proceeded to ask the price of one thing after another, with an air of such serious consideration as made it seem likely that she was to be the exception to the rule.
The gla.s.s case was opened, little heart-shaped trays and boxes brought forth, and such rhapsodies indulged in concerning silver-backed mirrors that the a.s.sistant felt certain of a sale. She was stretching underneath the gla.s.s to reach a mirror of another pattern, when Mildred suddenly glanced up at a clock, e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed "Oh, I must go! Thank you so much!" and rushed off at full speed in another direction. The ten minutes were nearly over, and Mildred had not executed the private business which she had on hand. She turned the corner where parasols hung in tempting array, pa.s.sed the fancy work with resolute indifference, and making a dash for the perfumery counter came into collision with a lady who was just turning away, parcel in hand.
The lady lifted her eyes in surprise. By all that was mysterious and unexpected, it was Miss Margaret herself! Mildred blushed, Mardie laughed.
"What are you doing here, Ubiquitous Person?" she cried, but immediately turned aside in tactful fashion, and made her way to the door.
No reference to this encounter was made on either side, but later in the day a comical incident occurred. When Miss Margaret went upstairs to dress for dinner, she found a small box lying upon her dressing-table, on the paper covering of which an inscription was written in well-known, straggly writing:
"_Mardie, with heaps of love and many thanks, from Mildred_."
Inside the box was a bottle of White Rose perfume, at the sight of which Miss Margaret began to laugh with mysterious enjoyment. When Mildred appeared a few minutes later, blushing and embarra.s.sed, she said never a word of thanks, but led her across the room towards a table which had been specially devoted to her use. Mildred stared around, and then began to laugh in her turn, for there lay a parcel of precisely the same shape and size as that which she had addressed a few minutes earlier, and her own name was written on the cover.
"Great minds think alike!" cried Mardie. "So this is the explanation of that mysterious "P.F.M."! But what are the thanks for, dear?"
"Oh, everything! You are so nice, you know, and I"ve been so nasty!"
said Mildred.
CHAPTER SIX.
THE JOURNEY TO THE DEANERY.
Friday arrived in a bustle of work and excitement. For the last two days Miss Margaret"s little sewing-woman had taken possession of the work-room, and Mildred"s well-worn dresses had been sponged and pressed, with such wholesale renewals of braid and b.u.t.tons as brought back a remembrance of their lost youth. And now all was ready. Letters from home announced further improvements in Robbie"s condition; Miss Margaret was radiant in the prospect of her own holiday; there was nothing to shadow Mildred"s expectation, and it really seemed as if it had been worth while having those days of disappointment and anxiety, so delightful was the reaction.
Miss Margaret and her pupil had a great many nice things to say to each other in the few minutes before the train steamed out of the station.
Mildred had said "thank you" so many times during the last few days, that there was little left to be done in that direction, but she was full of warm-hearted affection.
"I shall always remember how good you have been to me, Mardie. I think you are the nicest person in the world next to Mother. I shouldn"t mind being old if I could be like you."
"But my dear child, I don"t consider myself old at all! When you get to my age you will have discovered that you are just beginning to be young.
I wonder if,--when,--if you would--"
Mardie checked herself suddenly, and Mildred, scenting one of those secrets which are the delight of a school-girl"s existence, called out an eager: "What? What? What?"
"Oh, nothing! I only wondered if you would be very much shocked if I were betrayed into doing something very foolish and youthful one of these days."
Mildred stared down from the alt.i.tude of the carriage window.
What could Mardie mean? There was no secret about her age. It was inscribed in every birth-day-book in the school, and thirty seemed venerable in the estimation of fourteen. It did occur to the girl at this moment that Miss Margaret looked unusually charming for an elderly lady--those sweet eyes of hers were sweeter than ever when lighted by a happy smile.
"I am sure you will never be foolish, Mardie!" she said rea.s.suringly, and then the engine whistled, the guard waved his flag, and there was only time for a hurried embrace before the train was off.
So long as the platform remained in sight Mildred"s head was out of the window; then she sat down to find herself confronted by the mild-faced old lady into whose charge she had been committed.
She was an ideal old lady so far as appearances went. Her hair was white as snow; her chin nestled upon bows of lavender ribbon, and her face beamed with good nature; nevertheless Mildred found her fixed scrutiny a trifle discomposing, and stared out of the window by way of escape. For ten minutes on end the old lady gazed away with unblushing composure, then suddenly burst into conversation.
"Dear me, my love, you have a great deal of it! Are you not afraid that it may injure your health?"
Mildred fairly jumped with astonishment.
"Afraid? Of what? I beg your pardon--I don"t understand--"
"Your hair, my dear!--so much of it. They say, you know, that it saps the strength. A young friend of mine had hair just like yours--you remind me very much of her--and she died! Consumption, they called it.
The doctors said all her strength went into her hair!"
Mildred laughed merrily.
"Oh, well! it"s quite different with me, I have plenty of strength left over for myself. I am as strong as a horse, and have hardly been ill a day in my life."
"Dear! Dear!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the old lady. "And with that complexion too-- pink and white. Now I should have been afraid--"
She fell to shaking her head in lugubrious fashion, and watched the girl"s movements with anxious scrutiny.
"Do you think you are quite wise to sit next the window, love?" she asked presently. "You look a little flushed, and there is always a draught. Won"t you come over and sit by me? Just as you like, of course; but I a.s.sure you you can"t be too careful. I noticed that you cleared your throat just now. Ah, that"s just what a young friend of mine used to say, "It"s only a little tickling in my throat," but it grew worse and worse, my dear, till the doctors could do nothing for her. I am always nervous about colds--"
"She has been very unfortunate in her "young friends"!" commented Mildred to herself, but she made no reply, and the old lady waited fully two minutes before venturing another remark.
"Your--er--aunt seems a very sweet creature, my dear! You must be sorry to part from her."
"I am. Very! But she is not my aunt."
"You don"t say so! Not a sister, surely? I never should have thought it--"
"She is not a sister either." (Now, what in the world can it matter to her whether we are relations or not! I suppose I had better tell her, or she will be suggesting "mother" next). "She is one of the school-mistresses. I am just leaving school."
The old lady appeared overwhelmed by this intelligence. Her placid expression vanished, her forehead became fretted with lines, and she looked so distressed that it was all Mildred could do to keep from bursting into a fit of laughter.
"A boarding-school! Oh, my dear!" she cried. Then in a tone of breathless eagerness, "Now tell me--quite in confidence, you know, absolutely in confidence,--do they give you enough to eat? Oh, my love, I could tell you such stories--the saddest experiences--"