“I am glad you feel that way. Some people cannot dream.”
“Poor things! Neil could not understand me about dreaming. Nor could I explain it to him.”
“Lawyers don’t dream. I have heard that. I suppose the folk in the other warld canna fash themselves wi’ the quarreling o’ this warld.”
Roberta was untying the parcel containing the furs, as Christine spoke, and her answer was to put the long boa of sable around Christine’s neck and place the muff in her right hand. Now, good fur suits everyone—man or woman—and Christine was regally transformed by it.
“Eh, Roberta!” she cried. “What bonnie furs! I never saw the like o’ them! Never!”
“But now they are yours!”
“You dinna—you canna mean, that you gie them to me, Roberta?”
“I surely do mean just that. I give them to you with all my heart and you look like a Norse princess in them. Come, give me a kiss for the boa, and a kiss for the muff, and we will call the gift square.”
Then Roberta kissed Christine and they laughed a sweet, gay little laugh together. And Christine said, “I hae always wanted a sister. Now I hae gotten one weel to my liking! And O, the bonnie furs! The bonnie furs! They suit me fine, Roberta! They suit me fine!” and she smiled at herself in the little mirror, and was happy, beyond expression.