Chapter VI

December came and went, and although the girls had agreed to postpone their accustomed giving of gifts to one another until spring, when they hoped to present trophies of the winter’s warfare, the season was otherwise filled with the usual gayety.

Our heroines had not in the least relaxed their interest in the world in general, because of their interest in their own worlds in particular, and had not “cut loose,” as Nan at first had threatened. But, as their lives began to have more of purpose in them, their tastes changed somewhat, so that gradually the most “frothy” of their society friends drifted away unregretted, while new people, whom they had “found out,” as Evelyn phrased it, one by one slipped into the vacant places.

So it was that with less frequent but more spirited contact with society, the winter months flew away, and when the first rays of June sunshine streamed through the glass roof into “Cathy’s kingdom,” the most joyous sight they fell upon was the happy face of the proud mistress, as she went about among the radiant blooms and verdure, cutting her choicest buds for Evelyn’s luncheon, to be given that day in honor of Nan’s return and the reunion of the “jolly four.”

When the girls met in the Ferrises’ dining-room, and surveyed Evelyn’s beautiful table arrangements, they were more than usually jolly, and as that sweet young housekeeper had taken much pride in her festive board, she was deeply gratified by their exclamations of approval.

They pirouetted around and around it, admiring everything, beginning with the artistic lunch-cloth, embroidered by the same fingers which had laid a handful of Cathy’s flowers across each napkin; and they would have proceeded to scrutinize each separate detail, had not Bert seized upon a card bearing her name, attached to a cunning basket, which, in its turn, was tied with a gorgeous bow to one of the chairs. This discovery stimulated research on the part of the others, and immediately each guest was “pouncing,” as Bert said, on her own particular basket.

Nan was the first to investigate the contents. “Bonbons!” she shouted. “What richness! After luncheon, let’s toast these marsh-mallows on the ends of hat-pins over a lamp!—But who is the giver?”

Diving among the sweets for a clew, Cathy succeeded in finding a card which bore the inscription: “From the cook. Warranted pure.”

“You didn’t make ’em, Evelyn?” exclaimed Bert, popping a chocolate-cream into her mouth.

“Yes, I did,” laughed Evelyn, “and it’s as easy!—But see here!” and she held aloft a tawny yellow vase, with a flight of butterflies, in all rich hues, encircling the top.

“Waiting for the flowers with which I hope soon to be able to fill them,” Cathy said, as the girls looked radiantly at her work, and Bert hugged one of Pompeiian red, with dull blue butterflies, while Nan suggested the “divine” effect that scarlet nasturtiums would make with the yellow butterflies and the peacock-blue background of hers.

In the meanwhile, Bert, making further search under the fringe of the table-cloth, brought to view a fascinating cabinet. “With a place for a plaque, a place for a jug, and a place for my jar!” she shouted; while Cathy added, as she lovingly surveyed hers, “Yes, and a place for secrets behind the cunning little door!”

“Don’t, girls!” protested Nan, as they heaped thanks upon her. “You needn’t worry; they are not mahogany, nothing but pine, and a cheap carpenter made them, and I stained and polished them myself, so they cost hardly anything.”

“Oh, now, Nan, if you have been to New York and do up your hair in a new way, you can’t get me to believe that!” said Bert decidedly; while Evelyn asked sarcastically, “And did you also design them, Nannie?”

“Of course! What am I studying for, if I can’t design a simple shelf?” cried her sister.

The girls opened their eyes wide, but Nan averted another avalanche of praise by producing the last article on her chair. She gave a deep sigh of satisfaction as she comprehended that Bert had bestowed upon her a set of photographs of the most famous pictures in the world; while Cathy sat down and gloated over her “Goethe Gallery,” and Evelyn smiled into the faces of her favorite authors.

“I beg pardon, Bert,” said Nan, “for the vulgarity of admiring the setting as much as the gem,—but, girls, will you just observe the magnificence of these Japanese leather portfolios?”

The girls observed with joy, and Evelyn said:

“Considering how smart we have already shown ourselves to be, I venture to inquire, dear Bert, if you took the photographs yourself, or only tanned the leather?”

“Neither,” laughed Bert; “I only earned them with my inky fingers, so they are the first real presents I ever gave! And now let us sit down and admire one another.”

“You would be more sensible to admire my bouillon,” suggested Evelyn, as she ordered in the cups containing the first course.

So the merriment went on, through all the changes of Evelyn’s dainty banquet, while the girls compared notes on their various experiences.

“BERT SEIZED UPON A BASKET TIED TO ONE OF THE CHAIRS.”

“Let us add up, subtract, and get our totals, both financially and spiritually,” said Bert. “Who’ll begin?—Ah, what delicious chicken croquettes these are, Evelyn!—Come, Nan! You are responsible for the whole social and moral revolution, you know; so lead off with your account.”

“Nonsense,” replied that young woman; “if I hadn’t begun it, one of you would have fired our noble hearts,—for we should have died of inanition if we had lolled in the lap of luxury another week. So as you, Bert, scrambled down to the ground first, you should begin the reports. How is your exchequer?”

“Low, very low; but my spirits are not, and what matters it therefore, so long as I’m happy?” answered the confidential clerk. “No, money isn’t everything, for I have a gain far better. I feel genuine; I respect Miss Me; and, best of all, I have found my father. So, Nannie dear, I thank you sincerely, for I never was so happy in my life. So much for my grand total, with a large deficit of ennui.”

There was a general clicking of spoons in the after-dinner coffee-cups by way of applause, as Bert finished; and she at once demanded that Nan should next be heard.

The young artist responded promptly:

“Well, we all are happy, I hope,—because, thank goodness, it is no longer the chief object of our lives to be so;—that is one of the valuable lessons I have learned as I sat, day after day, at table between fat Miss Lee and thin Miss Jennings. I have been dreadfully discouraged at times, but I used to have worse ‘blues’ when I was only trying to amuse myself. I have had a happy winter; and even if I never sell a design (I hope to sell at least one next year), I never shall regret the experiment I have made; for the feeling of self-reliance is better than a bag of gold to your friend Nan!”

“But how about the fun you were bent on having?” mildly inquired Cathy.

“Oh, I’ve had a delightful time! Girls with a purpose are twice as interesting as those without; and as most of us were impecunious, we had numberless gay little three-cent larks. Ha, I can tell you there was no lack of fun!” and Nan laughed at certain merry remembrances. “But now, Cathy,” she resumed, “I pine to know all about that famous greenhouse.”

“Green-houses,” replied the young florist, with dignity. “All flowers can’t grow in the same temperature, my dear.”

“Oh,—I want to know!” drawled Nan. “But are you dreadfully in debt? And do things really sprout?”

“Sprout!” exclaimed Evelyn. “You would think so, Nan, if you had seen the big basket of yellow pansies she sent to old Mrs. Burk on the anniversary of her wedding-day! But Cathy will never roll in wealth; she gives all her flowers away. She ought to hang out a sign with the words ‘Flower Mission’ on it.” And Evelyn gave her friend a loving glance.

“Never mind,” retorted Cathy, blushing a little. “Our crusade was not so much to earn money as for the right to be happy, each in her own way; and since I have repaid what Fred loaned me, I can give away my very own things if I wish to, especially as they are usually in the good company of jellies and other lovely delicacies from Evelyn’s larder,” she added. “But don’t be disturbed, my dears, about my generosity; I shall charge you opulent creatures a good round dollar for every bud you get of me.—And now, Evelyn, it’s your turn; but your luncheon has been more eloquent than words——”

“No, no!” broke in Nan, with sudden mournfulness; “Evelyn has been an egregious failure, so far as her family is concerned; she has struck for higher wages——”

But a look from her sister warned Nan not to go further, while Cathy burst out:

“Oh, Evelyn, let me tell!”

“No,” she said, with an odd expression of mingled pride and timidity on her face. “I will tell it myself; why shouldn’t I? Besides, all but Bert know of it already, and I’m sure she suspects.”

“Are you really?” wildly demanded Bert, inconsequently except to the feminine mind.

“Yes, really!” answered Evelyn with shining eyes and flushed cheeks, while Nan groaned:

“Oh, Bert, woe is me! To think that I aided and abetted in this miserable business by encouraging Cathy to become independent, and so allowed her brother Fred to engage my sister for a wife!”

“You gave me a sister!” cried Cathy, as she tipped over her chair in an excited rush at Evelyn, whom she clasped in her arms, crying a little for joy, although her brother had partly prepared her for the glad news,—while Bert exclaimed heartily:

“You have my blessing, Evelyn dear!—And are there any more secrets to be divulged? Nan, you are in the designing business. Is there any decorative youth in view?”

“Not for me!” laughed Nan. “But, Bert, where has all your money gone? I expected you to ask me to accompany you and some delightful chaperon to Europe this summer, at your expense.”

“Oh, I frittered my funds away!” she cried. “Come, come; let us toast the marsh-mallows. Light the droplight, Evelyn. Where are the hat-pins?”

“Now, Bert,” said Evelyn, seriously, “I have found out your secret, and I’m going to tell——” But Bert had escaped and was flying upstairs, while Evelyn continued: “She has given a library to the working-girls’ association, and all that the world knows is that it came from ‘a girl who is thankful to have found out how much better work is than idleness.’ That’s what Bert has done with her money!”

THE END.