Betty thanked her and departed. She thrust the precious package in her muff without a second glance, and a peculiar, hard light glowered in her eyes until she reached once more the house in the cedars.
Mrs. Atterbury accepted the package without comment, and thereafter Betty roamed the grounds at will. Her position save for the morning's correspondence had become a sinecure, but she felt a presentiment of impending change, and awaited developments with keen expectancy.
They ensued more quickly than she had anticipated. She was summoned to Mrs. Atterbury's room late one afternoon, to find her employer critically examining a gown which had just arrived; an exquisite affair of filmy tulle and creamy lace.
Betty could not suppress a little cry of admiration, and Mrs. Atterbury smilingly held it out to her.
"I wish you to try this on, my dear. If it fits you, it is yours."
Wondering, Betty placed herself in Caroline's hands and when the change had been effected Mrs. Atterbury herself gasped. In the simple blouse and skirt Betty had been winsomely attractive in spite of the disfiguring birthmark, but the delicate beauty of the gown transformed her as if some fairy godmother had touched her with a magic wand.
"Really, you are quite wonderful!" There was amazement mingled with the unfeigned admiration in Mrs. Atterbury's tones. "I had no idea that you would develop such possibilities, Betty. I did well to select this model for you."
"It is really mine?" The girl turned her flushed face from the mirror. "I—I don't know how to thank you, Mrs. Atterbury, but when shall I have an occasion to wear it?"
"Tonight." The reply came with startling brevity and promptitude. "You are going to hear 'Aida'. Have you ever been to the opera?"
"Aida!" gasped Betty. There was a pause, and then she added with a change of tone, "No, I—I have never heard any opera except on a phonograph. It will be like a dream come true."