“Take it right over there, David. She has waited almost a lifetime for it.”
“Let me take Uncle Larimy’s present,” suggested Jud, “and then I’ll ask him to go shooting with us this afternoon.”
David amicably agreed, and went across fields to Miss Rhody’s.
“Land sakes!” she exclaimed, looking at the parcel. “M’ri ain’t a-goin’ to hev another dress so soon, is she?” 68
“No, Miss Rhody. Some one else is, though.”
“Who is it, David?” she asked curiously.
“You see Joe Forbes sent some presents from Chicago, and this is what he sent you.”
“A calico,” was her divination, as she opened the package.
“David Dunne!” she cried in shrill, piping tones, a spot of red on each cheek. “Just look here!” and she stroked lovingly the lustrous fold of shining silk.
“And if here ain’t linings, and thread, and sewing silk, and hooks and eyes! Why, David Dunne, it can’t be true! How did he know––David, you blessed boy, you must have told him!”