Such a happy day as it was! She found herself a perfect princess among her mates. She “treated” them royally, I assure you. Everybody was so obliging to her all day, and it was so nice to be able to make everybody pleased and grateful! Both the day of judgment and the dying day were put afar off—at least six months off.
Meantime, during the forenoon, Mr. Hampshire kept referring to the idea that any one could want five pounds of cinnamon at one time. Still, little Roxy
059was Mrs. Reub Markham’s next neighbor, and it was perfectly probable that she should send by her.
Some time in the afternoon Mr. Reuben Markham came down to the store. He was a wealthy man, jolly, but quick-tempered. Mr. Hampshire and he were on excellent terms. “How are you, Markham? and what’s your wife baking to-day?”
“My wife baking?”
“Yes. I concluded you were going to have something extra spicy. Five pounds of cinnamon look rather suspicious. Miss Janet’s not going to step off—is she.”
“I’m not in that young person’s confidence. I should say not, however. But what do you mean by your five pounds of cinnamon?”
“Why, Mrs. Gildersleeve’s little girl was in here this morning, and said Mrs. Markham sent for five pounds of cinnamon and two of raisins.”
“Mrs. Gildersleeve’s girl? I know Mrs. Markham never sent for no such things. She knew I was coming down myself this afternoon.”
He followed Mr. Hampshire down the store to the desk. There it was in the day-book:—