Then Donald’s clear voice broke in upon them as the door closed once more, and Luella watched him curiously cutting with eager, boyish haste the cords of the express package.
“Aunt Crete, your cloak has come. Now we’ll all see if it’s becoming.”
“Bless the boy,” said Aunt Crete, looking up with delighted eyes. “Cloak; what cloak? I’m sure I’ve got wraps enough now. There’s the cloth coat, and the silk one, and that elegant black lace——”
“No, you haven’t. I saw right off what you needed when we went out in the auto last night; and I telephoned to that Miss Brower up in the city this morning, and she’s fixed it all up. I hope you’ll like it.”
With that he pulled the cover off the box, and brought to view a long, full evening cloak of pale pearl-colored broadcloth lined with white silk, and a touch about the neck of black velvet and handsome creamy lace.
He held it up at arm’s length admiringly.
“It’s all right, Aunt Crete. It looks just like you. I knew that woman would understand. Stand up, and let’s see how you look in it; and then after dinner we’ll take a little spin around the streets to try you in it.”
Aunt Crete, blushing like a pretty girl, stood up; and he folded the soft garment about her in all its elegant richness. She stood just in front of the full-length mirror, and could not deny to herself that it was becoming. But she was getting used to seeing herself look well, and was not so much overpowered with the sight as she was with the tender thought of the boy that had got it for her. She forgot Carrie and Luella, and everything but that Donald had gone to great trouble and expense to please her; and she just turned around, and put her two hands, one on each of his cheeks, standing on her tiptoes to reach him, and kissed him.
He bent and returned the kiss laughingly.
“It’s lot of fun to get you things, Aunt Crete,” he said; “you always like them so much.”