The girls joined heartily in the laugh against them, though they professed entire innocence of any such intention as Alec implied.
Sarah's gift provoked a chorus of exclamations. From the fine drawn-work, the hand-made tucks, to the tiny irreproachable buttonholes, the waist was a triumph of the needlewoman's art.
"It's the prettiest one I ever had!" Blue Bonnet declared. She would have liked to jump up and kiss Sarah, the dear old thing! But with eight boys looking on, such a demonstration might appear done for effect, she concluded; and so reserved that mark of affection for a future occasion.
When the girls had presented their offerings, Knight came up and dropped a paper parcel into her lap. On the card tied to the blue ribbon that decorated it was written: "To the Good Samaritan from the One Who Fell by the Wayside." There was a laugh in Knight's eyes as he watched her read the inscription and then unwrap the tissue-paper that enclosed the object.
Blue Bonnet lifted the lid of the long narrow box, took one look, and met Knight's eyes with an answering laugh in her own. Inside the box was a shimmering red silk sash. Knight had kept his promise to himself to buy Blue Bonnet the "fanciest thing in the sash line that Chicago could boast"—even though it had taken the last penny of his pocket money.
"It's a beauty!" she declared.
"Knight must expect another spill to-day," laughed Alec.
Blue Bonnet looked about the circle with a bright, quick glance. "I'm not going to try to say 'thank you' to everybody,—those two words would be quite worn out by the time I finished!"
"Come along, everybody," said Uncle Cliff, "it's time for the festivities to begin."
As they left the dining-room, Carita slipped her arm about Blue Bonnet and whispered regretfully: "I wish I had a present for you. I didn't know in time or I could have made something."