“If I felt criss-cross with all the world, I believe I’d have to smile back when Miss Howard smiled at me,” said Toinette, shortly after she became a pupil in the school. “Her eyes are just as soft as the little Alderney bossie’s, and her lips look sort of grieved if the girls look cross.”
And so the whispers grew louder and louder till just after the Easter holidays were over, and then all who loved her best learned that early in June wedding bells would ring and a very bonny bride would step forth from Sunny Bank, with several bonny bridesmaids leading the way, and one maid of honor to scatter the posies which were to be symbolical, as all hoped, of her future pathway through life.
And then arose the all-important question as to whom Miss Howard would choose for that great honor, and excitement ran high.
All the girls had a strong suspicion that it would be Toinette, although, to do her justice, Toinette herself did not suspect it. Still, Miss Howard had taken a keen interest in the girl ever since she entered the school, and felt strongly drawn toward her, being quick to see her good qualities, and to understand that the undesirable ones were very largely the result of unfortunate circumstances. So she had striven in her sweet and gracious way to help Toinette without words, and had been a strong support to Miss Preston.
As the warm spring days made wood and field to blossom, the girls spent a great deal of their time out of doors. Sunny Bank’s grounds were very beautiful, and the adjacent field and woodland very enticing at that season. Basket-ball was a favorite source of amusement, and the lawn devoted to it as soft and smooth as velvet. So nearly every afternoon the team could be seen bounding about like so many marionettes, and if touseled hair and demoralized attire resulted, what did it matter? Rosy cheeks and ravenous appetites were excellent compensations.
It was the fifteenth of April, and Toinette’s birthday. Many a climb had the expressman’s horse taken up the long hill leading to Sunny Bank that morning, for, if Toinette had but few friends, she certainly had a very generous father, who meant that she should have her full share of birthday remembrances, and they kept coming thick and fast all day. With each came a funny note to say that he was sending still another package because he did not want her to have all her surprises in a lump; they would seem so much more if coming in installments. So they kept coming all day long, and by four o’clock her room looked like a fancy bazaar. Last of all to arrive was a large box upon which was printed in flaring scarlet letters: “Not to be opened till it is ten A. M. in Bombay.”
The box stood in the hall when Miss Preston passed through the hall to dinner, and, unless suddenly stricken with ophthalmy, she could not fail to see the flaring notice. “Ah,” she said, softly, to herself, “you have a triple mission, you inanimate bit of the carpenter’s skill: first, to teach my girls a lesson in longitude and time, second, to mutely ask my permission for a frolic to-night, and, third, to suggest that when birthdays arrive it would be a most auspicious time for the “C. C. C.’s” to hold their revels, and that Diogenes’ tub, if not himself, would be welcome, so I had better act upon the hint and contribute my share. Thank you, sir,” and, with a funny little nod to the box, she went on to the dining-room.
“What is the joke, Miss Preston?” asked Cicely, as Miss Preston took her seat.
“Do you think I’m going to spoil it by revealing it so soon? No, indeed,” and she laughed softly.
When dinner was ended the girls flocked around the box and curiosity ran riot. “What does that mean, Miss Preston? Do tell us.”