Blue Bonnet was brushing her hair out; she looked up, her eyes dark with sudden feeling. “I haven’t any—every other girl in our set—has a father and mother.”
The next morning, Blue Bonnet’s contribution was left at the parsonage,—Sarah promising that it should go in the box; also that it should go unopened.
Blue Bonnet thought about it a good deal that morning; it gave her a warm glow of satisfaction to feel that she had helped in the making of that Texas box. After this, she meant to send something in every box, though, no matter where its destination.
And when Miss Rankin asked her the principal products of Brazil, Blue Bonnet, who was trying to imagine what that other Texas girl was like, answered, “Missionary boxes.”
There was an irrepressible murmur of amusement. “Elizabeth!” Miss Rankin exclaimed, “What are you thinking of?”
“Missionary boxes, Miss Rankin,” the girl answered.
Miss Rankin rapped sharply for order. “Elizabeth—”
“I was, truly,” Blue Bonnet said earnestly. “They were getting one ready at the parsonage yesterday afternoon, and I got to thinking about it, and how nice they were; but I’ll tell you the products of Brazil now, if I may, Miss Rankin?”
“Very well,” the teacher answered; “after this try to keep those wandering thoughts of yours on the subject in hand.”