"I don't want you to grow too much. I like little women," he answered.
The cavalcade, as Dr. Joe called it, did start the next day. Daisy's mother and her Aunt Ellen went, Mrs. Dean and Margaret, and four little girls, including Nora Whitney, who was growing "like a weed." They went out to Broadway and then straight down. Of course people looked at them. The children were so merry, and really, Daisy in her chair with her colored attendant was quite an unusual incident. Aunt Ellen had let her carry her pretty dove-colored sunshade. It was lined with pink and had a joint in the handle that turned it down and made a shelter from too curious eyes. There were a good many people out. It was not necessary then to go away for the whole summer in order to be considered fashionable. People went and came, and when they were home they promenaded in the afternoon without losing caste.
Stores were creeping up Broadway. "Gerard & Co." was on the block above the Astor House, a very attractive notion and fancy store. The window was always beautifully arranged, and the cases were full of tempting articles. There were seats for customers, and across the end of the long store pictures and bijou tables and music-boxes were displayed. In a small anteroom there was a workshop where musical instruments, jewelry and, trinkets were repaired.
Sam lifted out his young mistress and carried her in. Charles came forward to receive his guests, and though he flushed and showed some embarrassment, acquitted himself quite creditably. Mr. Gerard, with his French politeness, made them very welcome and took a warm interest at once in Daisy. She sat by the counter with Sam at her back, and looked quite the countess of Hanny's description. Mr. Gerard brought her some rare and pretty articles to examine. The others strolled around, the children uttering ejaculations of delight. Such elegant fans and card cases and mother-of-pearl portemonnaies bound with silver and steel! Such vases and card receivers—indeed, all the pretty bric-a-brac, as we should term it nowadays.
But the greatest interest was aroused by the music-boxes. The children listened enchanted to the limpid tinkle of the tunes. It was like fairy-land.
"Oh," cried Daisy, with a long sigh of rapture; "if I only could have a music-box! Then I could play for myself. And it is so beautiful. Oh, mamma!"
Mrs. Jasper inquired prices. From twenty-four dollars to beyond one hundred. There was one at forty dollars that played deliciously, and such a variety of tunes.
"And when you tire of them you can have new music put in," explained Mr. Gerard.
"And you don't have to learn all the tiresome fingering," commented Hanny.
"If I had a piano I shouldn't ever think it tiresome," said Charles.