“Thank you,” said Henrietta. “I’m dying to unpack my new steamer trunk—Charles brought it right up along with me.”
The girls found Henrietta’s gifts in their rooms when they went upstairs at two o’clock. She had tried to find lovely, unusual things for them and had succeeded. A little gem of a picture in a silver frame for Jean, some lovely blue beads almost like Hazel’s for Marjory, an adorable turquois ring for Bettie and an exquisite enameled locket for Mabel. There was something for every girl in the West Corridor and a nice little graduating present for each of the three Seniors. There were some lovely white silk stockings “right straight from Paris” for Sallie.
“The rest of Sallie’s present is coming later,” said Henrietta, “I didn’t have room in my trunk for it. And on second thought, I’m not going to encourage any guessing. I might give the secret away and that wouldn’t do. I’m not going to tell what it is, but I’ll say this much. Don’t worry about your clothes, Sallie.”
“Did you get it in London?” demanded Mabel.
“Yes,” laughed Henrietta, “and that’s the last word I’m going to tell you about it.”
“I sort of hoped,” sighed Marjory, “it might have been Paris, like the stockings.”
But Henrietta only laughed harder than ever.
[CHAPTER XXVII—SALLIE’S PRESENT]
Three days later, Henrietta, her eyes bright with excitement, rushed to the dining room and fell upon Mary, one of the neat maids.
“Lend me your cap and apron, quick!” demanded Henrietta, helping herself to the needed articles. “Don’t say a word. There’s a hack coming up from the station and I want to answer the doorbell—Doctor Rhodes said I could. Sallie’s in her room—I locked her in. I’m just getting even with her for something. I’ll bring your things back in just a few minutes and tell you the rest.”