"A letter from Roger, Miranda! He will be here next week,--day uncertain, but surely in time for Christmas."
A chorus of joy arose, in which Hildegarde joined heartily.
"Think!" said Bell. "We have not seen Roger since the summer; hardly since we have seen you, Hildegarde. Oh, my dear, how long it seems since camp! and yet when you look at it the other way, it might be yesterday.
Heigh, ho! whose turn is it to get supper to-night? and who is going to get the fish for the chowder?"
"Dear, happy days!" said Hildegarde. "I have not lost a minute of one of them, Bell. If I should wake up to-morrow morning and find myself at camp, I should not be in the least surprised, but should just "put the kettle on and stand by to go about.""
"Dear old camp motto!" said Bell. "It makes a pretty good one anywhere, Hilda, do you know? If they give me the cla.s.s oration,--the girls are talking about it,--I might take that for my text."
"Are you talking camp and graduation," put in Gertrude, who came into the room at this moment, "when Christmas is almost here? Oh, think of it, and we have not planned what we are going to do, or--or anything!"
"Speak for yourself, Gertrude," laughed Hildegarde. "I have three bureau drawers full of things ready, and I ought to be tying up a box this minute, to go out West."
"Missionary box?" asked Bell.
"No,--at least, not in the regular way. But there are some distant cousins out in Colorado,--they have a hard time to get along, and there are a great many of them,--and Mamma and I always send them a box at Christmas. A kind of grab-bag box, with clothes and whatever we can think of."
"My dear," cried Bell, sitting up with shining eyes, "don"t you want some contributions? Let me tell you,--this is the position! We also have such cousins,--fourteen in number,--in Minnesota. And there was an auction at school, and I got all kinds of odd picknickles and bucknickles, thinking they would do for the box,--and I returned to find that Mother had sent it off three days ago, filled to overflowing. You see, the boys are just behind ours in age and size, so there are always lots of jackets (never any trousers, of course), and she thought they would be needed for the cold weather,--and I forgot to tell her about my purchases. What do you say, Hilda? Oh, come up into my room, and see some of the things! They are rather nice, some of them, and others just funny. Come on!"
Away went the three girls, up to Bell"s sunny room, where the trunks stood open, with trays of hats on the bed, and a general effect of "just-arrived-and-haven"t-had-time-to-get-settled" pervading all. Bell cleared a chair for Hildegarde, and bidding Gertrude "perch where she could," began to pull things out of the big, brown trunk, talking as she went.
"You see, girls, the way of it was this. There is always an auction at the end of the year, and generally things stay over for that; but this time there had been a fire in the town, and a good many poor families were left dest.i.tute. Mrs. Tower suggested that, perhaps, we might make up a little purse, or take charge of one family for the winter. We agreed to do the latter, and made up a committee to order coal and wood, and another to make clothes for the children,--seven children, poor little things! and the father so badly hurt in saving the youngest baby that he will not be able to work for several weeks. Well, I was on the committee to order the things; but when I came to collect the money, some of the girls, who wanted most to help, were very hard up, myself included. So near the end of the term, you see, and we had been buying Christmas things and all. So I said, "Suppose we have an auction!" for there were some girls--not many, but I suppose there are a few everywhere--who didn"t care a bit about the poor family, and yet we knew they had money, and we were bound to get some of it. I had the sale in my room. It was great fun. I hung out a red flag, and posted flaming notices in all the halls and corridors; and we had a great crowd. Me!
oh, no, I was not auctioneer! I could not possibly talk fast enough.
Caroline Hazen did it splendidly. Her mother was Irish, and she can drop into the most delicious brogue you ever heard, and she was so funny, we were in fits of laughter all the time. We made twenty dollars,--think of it!--all in a little over an hour. And some of these things I bought with what little money I had, and the rest were just left over, and as the girls would not take them back, I brought them along for the box.
See! here is a pair of knitted shoes,--really perfectly new. Anna Waring said that she had a dear aunt who sent her a pair every Christmas and every birthday, and she has ten pair now, and never hopes to catch up.
Three pair were sold beside these; got them for ten cents, and see how pretty they are!"
"Why, charming!" cried Hildegarde. "Bell, why don"t you wear these yourself?"
"I! Perish the thought! I never wear _any_ shoes in my room, Hilda; bare feet are part of my creed."
"But--but you have no carpet here, dear," said Hildegarde, with a little shiver. "And it must be very cold--"
"Delightfully cold!" cried Bell. "I know few things pleasanter than the touch of a good cold floor to the bare feet on a winter morning."
"She is volcanic, Hilda!" put in Gertrude. "She sleeps under a sheet all winter, and never looks at a blanket; it is true!"
Bell nodded gaily in answer to Hildegarde"s horrified look. "No use, dear! I am hardened in mind as well as in body, and cannot change my ways. Look here! Perhaps one of the boys might like this?"
She held up a string of chenille monkeys, and danced them up and down.
"Of course he would," said Hildegarde. "And what--what _is_ that, Bell Merryweather?"
Bell looked rather ruefully at the object she now drew from the trunk.
"n.o.body else would buy it," she said. "The girl who brought it down is new and shy, and--well, somehow, you felt that she wanted to help, and had nothing else to bring. I was so sorry for her,--I gave my last quarter for it."
It was a long strip of coa.r.s.e twine lace, with a yellow ribbon quilted in and out its entire length. One of those objects that sometimes appear at fancy fairs, for which no possible use can be imagined.
"It _is_ queer," said Bell. "I suppose it must have been meant for something; I didn"t like to ask her what."
"Oh, but, my dear, it is a lovely ribbon!" said Hildegarde. "Why not take the ribbon out, and make bows and things? I am sure you must want ribbon for some of your Christmasings."
Bell confessed that she might, and the ribbon was carefully laid aside, freed from its snarl of twine.
"Here," said Bell, diving into the trunk again, "is a highly interesting article, _mesdames!_ a pheasant, you see, carved,--Swiss, I suppose,--with all his feathers spread out. Now, I think I did pretty well to bring that home without breaking. Is there a boy in your box, Hilda? I meant this for a boy."
"There is, indeed, and I know he will be enchanted with such a pretty thing. Oh, and the marbles! Now, Bell, will you tell me what college girls do with marbles?"
"I will," said Bell, laughing. "She--Martha Sinclair--is very near-sighted, poor thing. She thought these were moth-b.a.l.l.s. She brought a lot of them from home, and put them up with her furs this spring, and was horrified to find them--the furs--all moth-eaten this fall. Poor Martha! That, Hildegarde, is the sad tale of the marbles. They are very good ones! I should not dare to let w.i.l.l.y see them,--here, put them in your pocket! Here are a.s.sorted pen-handles,--went in one lot,--forty cents for the dozen of them. Some of them are rather nice, I think."
"This is a beauty!" cried Gertrude. "This Scotch plaid one. May I have this, Bell?"
"Certainly, dear! Hilda shall have the pearl one,--there! This is the prettiest, Hilda--"
"But why am I to have all the prettiest?" inquired Hildegarde. "You are very reckless, Bell."
"No, my love, I am not," said Bell. "Pen-handles are, generally speaking, a drug in this family. For several Christmases w.i.l.l.y--dear child!--could not think of anything else to give us, so we had pen-handles all round--how many years, Gertrude?"
"Three, I think," said Gertrude. "Then some one laughed, and hurt his dear little feelings, and he never gave us any more. I miss the Christmas pen-handle myself, for I always get mine nibbled pretty short in the course of the fall term. It is the only way I can possibly write a composition."
"And is your next composition to be on the "Scottish Chiefs?"" asked Hildegarde. "Or do you hope to cure yourself by the taste of varnish and red paint?"
"Puppies!" cried Bell, emerging once more from the depths of the trunk.
"Five china puppies in a row. And thereby hangs a tale."
"I don"t see a sign of a tail," said Gertrude, inspecting the five little terriers, all sitting up very straight, with their paws exactly on a line.
"Spell it the other way, miss; and don"t forget your Shakespeare," said her sister.
"This reminds me of the very most foolish charade I ever heard. We were playing one evening in Martha Sinclair"s room; and Janet Armour took this row of puppies from the mantelpiece and set it on the floor, and told us to look at it. Then she kicked it over with her foot, and told us it was a word of three syllables, all three and the whole word given at once. See if you can guess, Hildegarde? You give it up? Well, it is too silly to guess. "Kick-a-row," do you see? Cicero, Gertrude, my lamb.
I explain on account of your tender years."
"She must be a silly girl," said Gertrude. "We wouldn"t put up with such a poor charade as that here, would we, Hilda?"
"There are different kinds of brains," said Bell, laughing. "Janet Armour leads the whole college in mathematics, and is head of the basket-ball team. So you see, dear, talents vary. Well, Hildegarde, I am afraid there is nothing else that would do; unless you would like this cologne-bottle doll? She is a superior doll."
"Very," said Hildegarde. "And you know Kitty would be enchanted with her. No, Bell, I shall take nothing else, and I am ever so much obliged for all these nice things. Now you must come over with me and help me fasten up the box. You, too, dear Gertrude."
The three raced across the lawn and through the hedge, and were soon in Hildegarde"s room. Bell looked round her with a sigh, half admiration, half regret.
"Hilda, there is no room but this!" she said. "How do you make it so--so--well, your own portrait in a way? If I were to be shown into this room in the furthest corner of the Soudan I should say, "And is Hildegarde in, or shall I wait for her?""
Hildegarde laughed, and looked about her, her eyes resting lovingly on this or the other treasure of picture or book.
"Dear room!" she said. "I am glad you like it, for I love it very much.
And if it looks like me--"