"I think it would be fine!" approved Amarilly. "You sure would look nicer nor Hallie did."
"Well, I wouldn't look like a dead one," admitted the Boarder. "But I was orful afraid you'd laugh. Then I kin rent it fer an hour to-morrer ef it ain't got no other dates."
"You can't rent it. You can take it fer an hour, or so long as you like," she assured him.
"You'll hev to take a quarter anyway, fer luck. Mebby 'twill bring me luck awinnin' her."
The photograph of the Boarder in saintly attire was pronounced a great success. Before the presentation he had it set in a frame made of gilt network studded with shells.
Lily Rose spent her leisure moments gazing upon it with the dream- centred eyes of a young devotee before a shrine.
The next wearing of the surplice was more in accord with its original design. In the precinct adjoining the one in which lived and let live the Jenkins family, a colored Episcopal church had recently been established. The rector had but one surplice, and that had been stolen from the clothes-line, mayhap by one of his dusky flock; thus it was that Amarilly received a call from the Reverend Virgil Washington, who had heard of the errant surplice, which he offered to purchase.
Naturally his proposition was met by a firm and unalterable refusal. It would have been like selling a golden goose to dispose of such a profitable commodity. He then asked to rent it for a Sunday while he was having one made. This application, being quite in Amarilly's line of business, met with a ready assent.
"You can hev it fer a dollar," she offered.
The bargain was finally closed, although it gave Amarilly more than a passing pang to think of the snowy folds of Mr. St. John's garment adorning an Ethiopian form.