Blue Bonnet in Boston Part 26

"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.

"That's queer. Where's his card?"

"He didn't send one, Miss Ashe."

Blue Bonnet went to her room, took a sweeping glance in the mirror, gave her hair an extra brushing, got out a clean handkerchief and went down-stairs quickly.

A tall young man came forward eagerly as she entered the reception-room.

For a moment she stared in dumb amazement, then she gave a cry of delight:

"Alec! Oh, how glad I am to see you! How ever in the world did you happen to come? How's Uncle Cliff, and Uncle Joe, and everybody on the ranch? Have you been to Woodford or are you just going?"

"One question at a time--please. Let's see, the first--Oh, yes; I happened to come because I got my appointment to West Point--"

"You did? How perfectly splendid! When?"

"A couple of weeks ago. I came on immediately to prepare. Mr. Ashe is well, so is Uncle Joe. They sent you all sorts of messages. I have been in Woodford for several days. I came through here the first of the week, but I wasn't in shape to call--exactly--not on a young lady in a fashionable boarding-school. I'm afraid I wouldn't have been admitted. I had to have some clothes--"

"How awfully well you're looking," Blue Bonnet interrupted.

"Oh, I'm fine--can hold my own now, I think; thanks to Texas. That's a great country you've got down there."

Blue Bonnet beamed with pleasure.

"Isn't it, though! Is Benita well?"

"Fine."

"How's Uncle Joe's rheumatism?"

"Better, I guess. Haven't heard him complain."

"Then it _is_ better," Blue Bonnet said. "And old Gertrudis--and Juanita? How are they?"

"Fine--all of them."

"Oh, how I should love to see them! When is Uncle Cliff coming to see me?"

"Along about Easter vacation, I think." Blue Bonnet fairly jumped with joy.

"He is? Really--aren't you joking, Alec? He hasn't said anything about it to me."

"Maybe I've let the cat out, then. Well--it's true just the same. That's the way he talks now. Hadn't we better sit down?"

"Oh, I'm awfully rude. Sit here."

She drew forth as comfortable a chair as the room afforded.

"You took me so by surprise that I forgot my manners."