Chapter Fourteen.
A Treasure indeed.
Darsie was one of the last guests to arrive upon the final scene of the treasure hunt, and already the merry process of parcel opening had begun. The young girl who had captured three prizes was on her knees before a garden seat, laying them out in a row to be seen and admired of all. Gaily dressed women were running about appealing to their male friends for the loan of penknives to cut the encircling string, and the air was full of the sound of laughter and happy, triumphant voices.
“How lovely! How beautiful! Isn’t it charming? Just what I wanted!”
Darsie stood in the background, her hands clasping her bundle behind her back, so as to screen it from view until the right moment arrived for its production. The prize-winners were one and all in such a desperate hurry to examine their “finds” that she would not have long to wait, and meanwhile the scene was delightful to witness.
Every one looked gay, and happy and smiling; the many-coloured frocks of the women made charming flecks of colour against the sombre green of the old cedar, as they moved to and fro with dazzling, kaleidoscopic effect. Darsie had never even imagined such a scene; it seemed to her more like fairyland than the dull work-a-day world.
She looked on, absorbed in delighted admiration, while one after another the coverings were torn from the dainty packages, and the brilliance of the scene was enhanced by the glitter of silver, and glass, and dainty patches of colour. It would take long, indeed, to write of the treasures which Mrs Percival had amassed in that day in town; it seemed to Darsie that nothing less than the contents of an entire shop window could have supplied so bewildering a variety. Bags, purses, satchels, brushes, manicure-cases, blotters, boxes, cigarette-cases, photograph frames, fans, brooches, bracelets, buckles, studs, tie-pins, waistcoat buttons—wherever the eye turned there seemed something fresh and beautiful to admire.
After such an Aladdin’s feast, would not her workman’s bundle fall very flat? With a sudden access of humility Darsie was about to turn tail and put the poor man’s dinner back in its hiding-place, when from across the lawn she met Ralph’s eyes fixed upon her with an expression of patronising commiseration. He was pitying her, because she had come back empty-handed when sharper eyes had reaped so rich a harvest! That touch of superiority made short work of Darsie’s hesitation. She would show that she was in no need of pity, that so far from being overpowered by failure, she remained jaunty and self-confident enough to turn her own disappointment into a joke for the amusement of others! With head thrown back she marched dramatically forward to the spot where Mrs Percival stood, the gracious mistress of the ceremonies, and held the bundle towards her in extended hands.
“Dear child, what have you there? A bundle—a workman’s bundle! Where in the world have you discovered that?”
“In the trunk of an old tree, in the orchard near the wall.”