“I wondered, when I heard you speak to Frieda in that careful explanatory way, as you might to a child who had been left in your care rather against your will, if you seemed just natural to Frieda! Frau Lange realized that there was some risk in sending Frieda over here. She told me that she knew young girls changed rapidly in tastes and ideals, and it might be that you two would not care so much for each other now. But she hoped, for the sake of the friendship between your mother and herself, that the two years would prove not to have separated you greatly. I assured her that, while 140 there might be some little difficulty at first, you would probably come out better friends than ever. There! I think we have quite enough berries. If you will just take them in to Evangeline, I’ll see about Frieda’s flowers. You’ll find a pitcher of shrub on the ice, and goblets on the tray all ready to bring out. We’ll arrange the flowers on the back stoop, I think, and you might bring us some refreshment there.”
Frieda had gathered flowers eagerly, but without much discrimination. Miss Lyndesay helped her sort them and make several bouquets instead of one variegated one, talking with her the while of incidents of their journey, till Frieda was entirely at her ease. By the time Hannah came out with the cool drink, the slight constraint that had existed for days between Frieda and herself seemed to have vanished. Joyfully, Hannah entered into the new spirit, and when Miss Lyndesay went in to answer Evangeline’s questions about luncheon, her guests were bubbling with mirth over some reminiscence of their Berlin days.
Immediately after luncheon, a caller arrived, with the obvious intention of spending some time. Miss Lyndesay gave the girls a trunk key and sent them off to do their garret exploring by themselves, giving them permission to do whatever they liked with anything they might find. They climbed the polished stairs, with arms interlaced, chattering 141 in German and English mixed, and reached the big shadowy garret out of breath. The trunks were piled in a cobwebby corner, and their key proved to belong to the lowest one in the pile. That meant much mighty tugging, but at last the encumbering ones were removed and they turned the key in the lock and lifted the heavy lid.
“O!” They spoke softly and leaned over, clinging to each other with excitement. In the top tray lay a doll dressed as if for a wedding. She wore a white satin gown, short-waisted, with a long panel down the front, embroidered with tiny pearls and gold thread. Her little feet were adorned with high-heeled slippers of white silk, also embroidered in the tiny pearls. A necklace of shining stones, and two little earrings made them gasp with delight. In the soft wavy hair was a high shell comb. The little lady held a book in her clasped hands, and her eyes, half closed, looked sleepily out from under long eyelashes.
“See! Here is a card,” said Frieda, touching the soft folds of yellowed tissue paper that lay around the little figure in the tray.
Hannah lifted the card with awe, and read: “The doll of Millicent Wadsworth, as she dressed it on her own Wedding Day, to be put aside and never played with more. The Bishop said it was a sinful Waste to dress her so, but my Husband said he did not care!”
142“What a reckless man My Husband was!” said Hannah, looking back at the doll once more. “Think of playing with dolls up to your wedding day! I wonder how old she was.”
“Let’s look in the other trays,” suggested Frieda. They removed the top one carefully, to find almost as delightful treasures in the next. Quite as delightful, perhaps, for here was the little Millicent’s wedding-gown, with her slippers and necklace and high shell comb, all like those the doll wore. Here, too, was a card, but written in an older hand:
“The Wedding Clothes of Millicent Wadsworth Berryfield, married on the 16th anniversary of her birth to John Berryfield, Esq., a Devoted Lover and Husband. She died three months and two days after of an Unknown Malady. John Berryfield returned to England, leaving these, Her Possessions, to be kept sacredly till he should come after them.”
“It’s dated almost a hundred years ago. Of course, he is dead too, now. I wonder if she pined for her doll to play with.”