"No," says she; "but there would be a fuss, and my name would get into the paper. Everything has its compensation, Cousin Frost."
Before I could answer, the carriage stopped in front of a large, high store, with great, tall windows, all one shiny sheet of glass on each side of the door, through which you could see lots on lots of silver and gold and precious stones, all in confusion, but, oh, how gorgeous!
"This is Ball, Black & Co.'s," says she, a-going up to the door, which seemed to open of itself, and in we went.
You have read the "Arabian Nights' Entertainment." I remember the time well, because we all got "kept in" after school for being caught at it. Well, that cave wasn't to be compared to what I saw in Messrs. Ball & Black's store. From floor to roof, all was one dazzle. Gold clocks, with silver horses tramping over 'em; colored men and women—reconstructed figures, I reckon; white stone women, a-standing, sitting down, scrouching themselves together, or riding lions a-horseback, bold as brass, filled one long room, like a regiment of military trainers. Then there were chandeliers of glass, in which no end of rainbows seemed to be tangled; dishes of sparkling glass, set in a frostwork of silver or gold, and—I may as well stop; no genius could give you an idea of the gorgeous things it was my privilege to see in those long rooms.
When we had wandered upstairs and downstairs again, Cousin E. E. stopped at one of the counters, and wanted to look at some rings. As for me I wanted to look at everything. What was one ring compared to whole stars, and bands, and clusters of shiny, white stones, that seemed to have been dug out of a rainbow—all mixed up with other stones, red as blood, green as spring grass, blue as the sky, and white as snow-crust. Why, sisters, that counter was just one bed of burning sunshine. It dazzled my eyes so that I can hardly remember anything distinct enough to describe it to you.
Well, Cousin E. E. bought her ring, which had a green stone set in it. I saw her hand a lot of money over the counter to pay for it, which riled my conscience a little; but I said nothing, the money being hers, not mine; still, how much good it might have done some missionary society.
Well, out of this store of gorgeousness we went, and got into the carriage again.
Cousin E. E. said she had bought so many things that this was about the last place she had to go to, and, as it was getting pretty near dark, I must go home with her and help fill up the Christmas tree. Cecilia would be dreadfully disappointed if it was not splendid, and they all thought so much of my taste.
I made no objections; why should I? Christmas Day in a boarding-house isn't full of ravishing promises, so I just snuggled down into the white fur again, and let the fellow with bear-skin claws drive me where he had a mind to.