“They must be wretchedly poor—I dare say I can get it for almost nothing.”
Then seating herself by Alice’s side, she told at once the object of her visit. She had never forgotten the beautiful lace dress which Alice had worn on the night of her party, and if there was one thing more than another which she coveted, it was that. In short she wished to know if Alice had it now, and if so, would she sell it, telling no one that it had ever belonged to her.
At the first mention of the dress, Alice’s tears began to flow, for it was almost the only relic of the past which she possessed, and now, laying her head in Adelaide’s lap she sobbed out:
“Oh, Adelaide, my mother bought it for me, and can I let it go?”
“You know which you need the most, that or the money,” was Adelaide’s cold reply, while from his pillow the sick man faintly murmured:
“Something to make me well.”
This was enough, and wiping her tears away, Alice took from her trunk the dress, sighing deeply as she recalled the night when first and last she wore it.
“I did not know it was so exquisitely beautiful,” was Adelaide’s mental comment as Alice shook out the soft, fleecy folds, but she did not say so. On the contrary she depreciated its value, saying, it had turned yellow, was rather old-fashioned, and a second-hand article at most, besides being quite too short for her in its present condition.
In this manner she paved the way to the price which she finally offered, and which Alice at first refused to take. Four dollars seemed so little for what had cost so much. But Alice’s necessities were great, and when Adelaide offered her another dollar to change the dress as it would have to be changed for her, she yielded, promising to have it in readiness and bring it home on the night of the party. After trying it on and giving numerous directions as to the changes she wished to have made, Adelaide arose to go, saying nothing concerning the pay. With a beating heart Alice saw her about to leave, and though it cost her a mighty effort to do so, she at last conquered her pride and catching Adelaide’s shawl as she was passing out, she said with quivering lips:
“If you only will pay me part to-day! Father is sick, and we are so poor,” and the little blue veined hands were clasped beseechingly together.