"I can't eat them," said Ida, smiling feebly, for her head was aching, "but it is very kind of him; and please tell Brown to tell him that I am very sorry, and please put the almonds and raisins into my box. I will make a dolls feast with them, if ever I make dolls' feasts again."
With which the weary little maid turned upon her pillow, and at last forgot her troubles in sleep.
The next morning Brown delivered a similar message from the old gentleman. He had gone away by an early train on business, but had left Ida his love.
"It's very kind of him," said Ida, again. But she went sadly on with some paper she was cutting into shapes. She was in low spirits this morning.
Comfort was at hand, however. In the course of the day there came a message from Mrs. Overtheway, asking Nurse to allow Ida to go to tea with her that evening. And Nurse consented.
Ida could hardly believe her senses when she found herself by the little old lady's own fireside. How dainty her room was! How full the bookshelves were! How many pictures hung upon the walls!
Above a little table, on which were innumerable pretty things, hung two pictures. One of these was a portrait of a man who, from his apparent age, might have been the old lady's son, but that he was not at all like her. He might have been good-looking, though, Ida thought, and he had a kind, intelligent face, full of energy and understanding, and that is better still. Close under his portrait hung a little sketch. It was of a road running by a river. Opposite to the river was a house and some trees. It was a pretty sketch, Ida thought, and the road looked interesting, as some roads do in pictures—making one wish to get into the frame and walk down them to see whither they lead. Below the sketch were some curious-looking characters written in ink, and of these Ida could make nothing.
Tea was soon ready. It was spread out on a little table by itself. The white cloth seemed to Ida the whitest she had ever seen, the silver and glass glittered, the china was covered with a rosebud pattern, and a reading-lamp threw a clear soft light over all. The tea, the cream, the brown bread and butter, the fresh eggs, and the honey—all were of the very best—even the waiting-maid was pretty, and had something of the old lady's smile.
When she had finished her duties by taking away the things, and putting the tea-table into a corner, the two friends drew up to the fire.