“Oh, please, Betsy.”
Betsy shook her head.
“I know just why you aren’t going to,” Elizabeth asserted; “it is because you have given me the nicest piece and the only one that will do, and you are too generous to say so. You have just got to take it back and I will use that dark one.”
Betsy backed away as Elizabeth tried to force the silk upon her. “I will not have it,” she maintained. “I am not an Indian giver; besides, aunt Emily said that you were to have anything in the bag you wanted.” Betsy had a sharp pang of conscience as she made this speech, remembering what was hidden in the depths of the bag on her arm. “I must really go, Elizabeth.”
“But it is early and I did think we would have such a good time.”
“I will come some other time.” Betsy hesitated before continuing: “I wish you would put off doing yours, too. There is no telling what we may get after another hunt.”
“But I couldn’t have anything better than this,” returned Elizabeth, giving the blue silk an admiring look, “not if I searched the world over.”
“You’d better wait,” repeated Betsy and then she went off, leaving Elizabeth feeling somewhat mystified and rather disappointed.
As soon as Betsy reached home she went to her room and drew forth the coveted bit of ribbon. Yes, it was even more beautiful than she thought. She had never seen anything of the kind that she admired as much. Suppose her aunt Emily had made a mistake in putting it in that special bag, or suppose she should say that she had missed it and wanted to use it herself. Even if she might have it her aunt would question as to her use of it.
This Miss Emily did when, a little later, Betsy went to her. “Could I have this, aunt Emily?” she asked, producing the piece of ribbon. “It was in the piece bag and you said we could have anything in it.”