Peggy looked at her friend, and her eyes twinkled. It was evident that some mystery was in the air, and that the word ‘tonic’ was used in a figurative rather than a literal sense. Mellicent pondered, hit on the solution of chocolates, and being an inveterate sweet-tooth, found consolation in the prospect. Perhaps Peggy was going to present her with some of the treasures she had brought home from Cannes, in which case there would not only be the enjoyment of the bonbons themselves, but the case would remain as a permanent joy and pride. So fascinating did the idea appear that it was quite a shook to see a long narrow roll emerge from the wardrobe when the crucial hour arrived.
“Here is your tonic,” said Peggy. “It has come all the way from India, and was ordered for you a whole year back. I didn’t tell you what your present was the other night, for I wanted you to have the fun of opening it yourself. I do like opening my own parcels, don’t you, and not knowing what I’m going to see!”
“Oh, I do! I love it!” agreed Mellicent rapturously, taking the roll in her arms, and prodding at it with the end of her fingers. “Peggy, how sweet of you! I know I shall like it... It’s very hard, and so narrow... I can’t imagine what it can be. Ordered a year ago—that sounds as if it had to be made. Is it—er—ornamental or useful?”
“Oh, useful! very, very useful!” cried Peggy, and chuckled with enjoyment at Mellicent’s gallant attempt to hide disappointment beneath a pretence of satisfaction.
“Oh yes, how nice! Useful things are much more—useful, aren’t they? I believe it’s an umbrella, and yet it’s rather thick for that. I can’t imagine what it can be.”
“Cut the string and look! That’s the best way out of the difficulty,” suggested Peggy; and Mellicent followed her advice, and slowly unrolled the parcel on the bed. Silver paper came first, rolls of silver paper, and a breath of that delicious aromatic perfume which seems an integral part of all Eastern produce, last of all a cardboard cylinder, with something soft and white and gauzy wrapped around it. Mellicent screamed aloud, and jumped about in the middle of the floor.
“It is! It is!” she cried rhapsodically. “It’s a dress like yours—like the one that was burned in the fire, and that I loved so much. But prettier. Oh, Peggy, it’s prettier! There are more of the lovely white silk flowers, and the muslin is softer and finer. You wicked, wicked girl, how dare you say it was useful!”
“Because it was true. You can let Carter make it up, and wear it over your white silk at the Rollos’ on Thursday, and if that isn’t useful, what is, I should like to know? I wish you could have seen your face when I said it was useful. It grew about a yard long.”
“I knew it did, though I tried so hard to smile and look pleased. You see, Peg, I have nothing but useful things at home, for we can’t afford anything else, and I do so dearly love a taste of luxury now and then. I simply hate useful presents, and when we get any sent to us they invariably are of that order, for people say to themselves, ‘Poor things, they are not at all well off, better send them something that will be of use.’ And I do assure you, my dear girl, that the Christmas before last I got four dozen handkerchiefs, and five separate pairs of gloves. Gloves I don’t mind, for they are nicely useful; but I nearly spread out all the forty-eight handkerchiefs on the bed, and wept over them with sheer rage that they weren’t something else... Oh, you ducky, darling dress! Sha’n’t I look nice! Peggy Peggy, I do love you for thinking of it, and giving me such a pleasure. You can’t think how I shall enjoy being really well-dressed for once in my life.”
“I’m so pleased you are pleased. It’s ever so much nicer to give than to receive. When my three French dresses came home, I was in a bad temper for the rest of the day, because the collars were too high and stuck into my chin, and the dressmaker had not carried out all my instructions; but I’m enjoying this as much as you are, and shall feel a reflected glory in your appearance on Thursday. I’m so glad Arthur will be there, for it will be a comfort to see one familiar face among the throng. I wish—”