So it was talked of a little more, and the arrangements made for moving Jemmy to the hospital in a few days, when the place would be vacant and ready for him. By the time this was done, Mrs. Bent could look at the thing in its proper light, and was profuse enough of thanks and blessings. But the first impression was not readily done away with; and when they left, Bessie took her seat in the carriage with a very sober face; and Maggie, who was highly disgusted with Mrs. Bent, broke forth with some opinions by no means complimentary to that good woman.
"Well," said Grandpapa Duncan, when he had heard all about the prizes, and the visit to Jemmy, "I am sure our lame boy will say that your going to school has been a great blessing to him, since it has brought this about."
"Why, yes," said Maggie thoughtfully, "so it has. I'm sure I'd never have thought our going to school could be of use to Jemmy. Doesn't it seem queer, grandpapa? But it was all Bessie. I'd never have earned that prize."
"Yes, she would, grandpapa," said Bessie. "Miss Kate told me so yesterday. She said if they had not voted for me, all the large class would have voted for Maggie, 'cause they thought she was so true and good about Gracie's composition; so I told Maggie this morning it was just as much her present to Jemmy as mine. And we always like to be halves in things, grandpapa. And I told Miss Kate, Maggie deserved it more than me, 'cause I was very tempted about the composition, and she was not one bit."
"But she knew better than that, and I'm glad of it," said Maggie, with a decided nod of her curly head.
"She didn't say so," replied her sister: "she only said, 'O Bessie!' and just kissed me."
"There's a letter and a large parcel for Miss Maggie on the library-table," said Patrick, when they reached home that afternoon.
"A letter for me? Oh, lovely!" said Maggie; and away she ran, with Bessie after her, both eager to see what the parcel contained, and whom the letter was from.
The parcel was a large one, carefully wrapped up, and the letter lay upon it.
"Why, that's Uncle Horace's monogram! What can he be writing to me about when he saw me yesterday, and will see me again to-morrow? I just expect this is another of his lovely surprises—the dear, precious lamb!" said Maggie, who, provided an epithet came handy, was not always particular as to how it fitted. "Let's open the parcel first."