"Muriel says she thinks he's nicer now he's married," Marigold said eagerly. "She never saw so much of him before as she has during these last few days. How strange that is!"
"I think it was a wise step his marrying before telling her anything about it, as it turns out," Miss Holcroft said reflectively. "If he had told her she was to have a stepmother, she would doubtless have formed a prejudice against Mrs. Wake that she might never have overcome."
Miss Pamela sat silent. She was thinking of the prejudice she had entertained for so many years against Marigold's mother; lately she had known how unjust it had been.
A few days later, Mr. and Mrs. Wake left Boscombe, much to the regret of Muriel, who had made many enjoyable excursions with them to Bude, and other places in the neighbourhood. On one occasion they had gone to Tintagel, to visit King Arthur's Castle, taking Marigold and Molly Jenkins with them, as well as Muriel. That had been a treat for the lame girl, the remembrance of which lived in her memory for many a year afterwards; and Miss Holcroft and Miss Pamela had been very pleased that the Wakes had invited their visitor as well as their little niece.
It had been arranged that Mrs. Jones and Muriel should travel back to Exeter with Miss Holcroft's party; and the day had been fixed for their departure.
Marigold was now considering what she should take back to her friends, and the servants at home, as she was beginning to call her aunts' house in Powderham Crescent. She spent much time outside the village shop, peering at the shelf that was labelled "Useful Presents," and after careful thought made her purchases. She bought china ornaments with views of Boscombe printed on them for the servants; an elaborate shell-box, with a little looking-glass at the back of the cover, for Mrs. Barker; and photographs of different well-known places of interest in the district for several of her girl friends.
"I wish I could send mother something," she thought. "I was never able to give her a present in my life; and now I have plenty of money, only I don't know if Aunt Pamela would mind—"
Her reflections came to an abrupt conclusion. She was standing outside the shop, and her quick eye had caught sight of a little old-fashioned blue china teapot that was the very thing her mother would admire, she felt certain.
She pushed open the shop door and went in. The woman behind the counter, Mrs. Treffry by name, greeted her with a smile, for she knew Marigold very well, having constantly seen her during the last few weeks.
"Good-morning, Mrs. Treffry," the little girl said briskly. "I want you to allow me to look at that small blue teapot you have in the window, if you please."