“Shall you make them both?” inquired Betsy.
“That depends. They are both so nice I don’t know which to choose.”
“Tell me about them.”
“One is for handkerchiefs. You cover two squares of pasteboard cut a little larger than a folded handkerchief and cover both sides, one with any pretty piece of silk and the other side with white, then you have a strap of elastic to hold them together when you put the handkerchiefs inside. It doesn’t muss the handkerchiefs, takes up no room and makes it very handy for you to see just what you want when you are looking for a handkerchief.”
“I should think that would be very nice,” declared Betsy. “Now what is the other one?”
“It is a case for threaded needles. You take a piece of ribbon about so long,”—Elizabeth measured with her two hands a distance of a little less than three quarters of a yard,—“and about so wide,”—she measured again about three and a half inches. “You sew one end over a piece of pasteboard the length of the longest needle you intend to have and you fasten in a strip of flannel not quite so long as the ribbon and a little narrower, then you thread needles with black silk and cotton and white silk and cotton; you run them in and out the flannel, fold the ribbon over and over, tie it together with a little narrow ribbon and when you are in a great hurry or when you are travelling you don’t have to stop to thread needles.”
“I think that is fine,” returned Betsy, who had listened attentively. “I believe I would like that better than the scent bag.”
Elizabeth made no reply. She really liked it better herself and had quite a feeling of triumph that she had found something so simple and yet so useful. But it would take quite a length of ribbon and she was not at all sure she could find a piece exactly suited. “Kathie says she has some flannel I can use,” she remarked after awhile, “if only I can get the ribbon. I suppose I could save up and buy it, but I haven’t a great deal of time to save in, for Christmas comes very soon after Thanksgiving, and the pennies don’t come in as fast as the days fly by. Besides, I need all I can get to buy what I most want to get for mother.”
Betsy was absorbed in peeping into the bag she held, and began to draw forth one piece after another. Elizabeth watched her with interest. “There,” she exclaimed, pouncing upon a bit of delicately flowered silk, “that would just do for the scent bag. Isn’t it pretty?” she added, holding it up. “Shall you use that?” she asked.
“If I don’t see anything I like better,” answered Betsy. “This might do for your handkerchief case,” she went on, as she laid two ends of silk in Elizabeth’s lap. They were not very pretty pieces, Elizabeth thought, and she looked at them doubtfully. Miss Jewett should have only the very loveliest, she considered. “Maybe we can find something else,” said Betsy, noticing Elizabeth’s expression.