This amazing piece of information gave Ruth a shock. In her selfish absorption in Gloria and herself she hadn’t thought of the servants and the inevitable toll of Christmas gifts.
“Do you know, Jennie, I didn’t buy any gifts before I came up here and I almost forgot, but I want to give you a present—” She was just about to offer money, and then something in the kind, stolid face warned her that this would be wrong. “I’d like to give you something of my own that you like. If you’ll just tell me what you want you can have anything of mine—any dress or hat or—well, just anything you like.”
The girl’s eyes spread wide.
“Anything?”
“Yes, anything, that is, if I have anything you like. If not I’ll have to follow Professor Pendragon’s example and give you money to buy your own gift.”
“You’ve got such lots of pretty clothes—”
Ruth thought her wardrobe very limited, but waited.
“There is one dress—not a party dress—I’ve always wanted one—there ain’t any place to wear it, but if you could—do you really mean it—anything?”
“Of course,” said Ruth, expecting a request for one of her three presentable evening gowns.
“Then I’d like that blue silk thing with the lots of lace—the thing you wear here in your own room.”