“Virginia Dale, you have been crying,” Hennie said, as she noted a telltale moisture of the eyes.
“No, Hennie, I am wonderfully happy.”
“So much so that you had to cry, dearie?” The older woman smiled tenderly. Raising her hands she caught Virginia’s cheeks between them and looked down into the big blue eyes. “It was a success, dear–a great success,” she giggled mischievously for one of her years. “You told us, remember, that the place needed stirring up. Bless your heart, you shook it with an earthquake.”
CHAPTER XII
MORE TROUBLE
“It is a fine form of advertisement and comes cheap,” thought Obadiah as he read, with pleasure, certain laudatory references to himself and his daughter, in an article regarding the concert at the Lucinda Home, prominently displayed in the morning paper.
He told her about it. “There is a very nice account of your concert at the Lucinda Home. They give you great credit.” He glanced at her proudly. “You made a Dale success of it, didn’t you?”
His words as well as her own satisfaction at the outcome of the concert made Virginia very happy. All that morning she sang as she went about her various affairs in the big house until Serena smiled to herself and muttered, “Dat chil’ is a mekin mo’e noise an’ er jay bird er yellin’ caze de cher’ies is ripe.”
The joyous mood was yet upon the girl when she went to the hospital that afternoon and found Joe Curtis sitting up in bed for the first time. “You are looking fine,” she told him.
“Don’t make me blush. I am a modest youth,” he protested.