"Yes," Mrs. Banker said, thoughtfully, as she rolled up the bills, "you wish me to get as heavy bracelets as I can find—for the hundred dollars."
"Yes," Katy replied, "I think that will please her, don't you?"
Mrs. Banker knew Katy's fondness for jewelry, and knowing, too, that her girlhood was spent in comparative poverty, she could readily understand how she would gratify her taste when circumstances were favorable; but Helen was different, and she felt certain that the hundred dollars could be spent to better advantage and in a manner more satisfactory to her. Still she hardly liked to interfere until Katy, observing her hesitancy, asked again if she did not think Helen would be pleased.
"Yes, pleased with anything you choose to give her, but—excuse me, dear Mrs. Cameron, if I speak as openly as if I were the mother of you both. Bracelets are suitable for you who can have everything else, but is there not something your sister needs more, something which will do more good? Now, allowing me to suggest, I should say, buy her some furs, and let the bracelets go. In Silverton her furs were well enough, but here, as the sister of Mrs. Wilford Cameron, she is deserving of better."
It was the first time that Katy had thought that in New York her sister might need more than at home. Seeing her only in the dim sickroom, the contrast between Helen and her and her husband's sisters had not struck her, or if it had, she gave the preference to Helen in her dark merino and linen collar, rather than to Juno in her silks and velvet; but she understood Mrs. Banker at once, her cheeks reddening as there flashed upon her the reason why Wilford had never yet been in the street with Helen, notwithstanding that she had more than once requested it.
"You are right," she said. "It was thoughtless in me not to think of this myself. Helen shall have the furs, and whatever else is necessary. I am so glad you reminded me of it. You are kind as my own mother," and Katy kissed her friend fondly as she bade her good-by, charging her a dozen times not to let Helen know the surprise in store for her.
There was little need of this caution, for Mrs. Banker understood human nature too well to divulge a matter which might wound one as sensitive as Helen. Between the latter and herself there was a strong bond of friendship, and to the kind patronage of this lady Helen owed most of the attentions she had as yet received from her sister's friends; while Mark Ray did much toward lifting her to the place she held in spite of the common country dress, which Juno unsparingly criticised, and which, in fact, kept Wilford from taking her out, as his wife so often asked him to do. And Helen, too, keenly felt the difference between herself and those with whom she came in contact, crying over it more than once, but never dreaming of the surprise in store for her, when on Christmas morning she went as usual to Katy's room, finding her alone, her face all aglow with excitement, and her bed a perfect showcase of dry goods, which she bade Helen examine and say how she liked them.
Wilford was no niggard with his money, and when Katy had asked for more, it had been given unsparingly, even though he knew the purpose to which it was to be applied.
"Oh, Katy, Katy, why did you do it?" Helen cried, her tears falling like rain through the fingers she clasped over her eyes.
"You are not angry?" Katy said, in some dismay, as Helen continued to sob without looking at the handsome furs, the stylish hat, the pretty cloak, and rich patterns of blue and black silk, which Mrs. Banker had selected.