“We’ll be all right, Father,” said Hilary. “We want to shop and look at the Christmas displays this afternoon.”
As the girls stood on the high lookout of the Union Central building, Hilary explained a little. “You see,” said she, “old Cincinnati was built in the ‘basin,’ as they call it, right down on the river, of course, for convenience in business. There was much river traffic in those days. But when the city grew and grew, naturally the residences began to be built out on the surrounding hills. Father, with his favorite alliteration, calls it ‘Cincinnati and her hundred hills.’ I love the down town spires. They give character and beauty to the whole place, Father says. O, I’m so glad that you are going to hear Father preach. He looks like the angel Gabriel and says the most wonderful things!”
“No wonder you are so nice, Hilary,” said Virginia, “with such a dear mother and the father you have,—not that you do not deserve some credit yourself!”
“I am very thankful,” said Hilary, “for my dear people, but I ought to be ever so much better than I am with the bringing up I’ve had!”
“Shall we go over into Kentucky some time?” asked Isabel, looking across at the Kentucky hills.
“O, yes,” replied Hilary. “We can do that tomorrow if you like, go over to Covington, or ride out to Fort Thomas, where there is the army post, you know.” Virginia began to count the number of states that she had been in on her trip from the farm, and concluded that it would be not only fun to see Kentucky towns, but would add a state to her list.
“Shopping next, girls,” said Hilary, as they went down in the elevator. “I’m not going to take you all over town, but into some of the big stores that are not very far apart, and then we’ll go somewhere for some good old sundaes and home again.”
“Isabel and I both need some good gloves, first of all,” said Virginia, “then just Christmas things, and something to remember Cincinnati by.”
In the days that followed so rapidly, there were certain great events that stood out in the life of the little girl from Dakota who had never seen nor heard anything like them. Through it all, too, ran the delightful feeling of being in a real home, with both a father and a mother, and a home built on the highest ideals.
There was the Symphony Orchestra concert, when she sat between Mrs. Lancaster and Hilary and watched the players with their instruments, many of them strange to her. Virginia thrilled to the harmonies and sat tense with enjoyment, not wanting to miss a note. She loved especially the harp and the violins, and in between the numbers asked Mrs. Lancaster about the wind instruments and the general make up of an orchestra, till Mrs. Lancaster realized that there were some things she had not thought of herself. The people, too, were of no less interest to Virginia, especially those who were much dressed for the occasion and sat in the boxes. It was a phase of life which the girl had read about but had never seen.