“Are you glad?” said Betty.
“Glad? Well, I just guess I am. Now I can go to the reception, and I’m going to recite ‘The Famine’ lines from ‘Hiawatha.’”
“But haven’t you any way to find out who sent it?” persisted Dorothy, thereby asking the very question Betty wanted to.
“No, and I don’t want to try. You see, you’re not supposed to know who sends a valentine, and of course it would turn out to be Aunt Esther, or Grandmother Harrington, and that would take away all the beautiful mystery and romance. It’s so lovely not to know where it came from. It’s a true valentine.”
“So it is,” agreed Betty, her heart fairly bounding with joy at the complete success of her little plan.
“Come on home with me and see it,” urged Jeanette; but Betty felt she must tell her mother about it at once, so she said, “No, it’s too late. I’ll run over to-morrow to see it.”
“All right, then; be sure to come,” and happy Jeanette went away with Dorothy, leaving an equally happy Betty behind her.
“And don’t you mind if she never knows you gave it to her?” asked Mrs. McGuire after she had the story.
“Why, no, Mother. What a question! The whole trouble was for fear she would know that. And now she has the dress, and she’s so happy about it, indeed I don’t want her ever to know where it came from!”
Betty’s own joy in the gift she had made was purely unselfish, and she felt amply rewarded in the pleasure she had given Jeanette.