What a dinner that was! Gretel had never in her life tasted such delicious things. It was rather too early for the usual crowd, but there were plenty of diners to watch, and what with the bright lights, the music, and the delicious food, the little girl felt very much as Cinderella must have felt when she first arrived at the ball. As for the prince, there could not possibly have been a more delightful prince than her brother. The night before at Mrs. Marsh’s, she had thought him rather quiet, but this evening he was the merriest of companions, and what was more, he seemed to be enjoying himself quite as much as Gretel was. Gretel had been accustomed to the society of grown-up people all her life, and was in many ways old for her age. She had been her father’s friend and companion at an age when most children are still in the nursery, and even the year spent under Mrs. Marsh’s stern discipline had failed to altogether suppress her love of talking. So she chattered away, and by the time dinner was over Mr. Douane had learned a good many things, some of which were of such a surprising nature that he found considerable difficulty in restraining his rising indignation.
“Do you mean to tell me that Mrs. Marsh never bought you a Christmas present with the money I sent?” he inquired once, in a tone of so much surprise that Gretel was a little startled.
“Did you really send money to buy me a Christmas present?” she asked innocently. “How very kind you were. Mrs. Marsh didn’t tell me about it, but perhaps she forgot. I suppose she couldn’t spend the money that way, because—well, you see, she said she didn’t believe you had any idea how much things cost. I’m very glad you told me, though, for it makes another thing for me to be grateful about.”
“Don’t talk to me about being grateful, Gretel; I don’t like it.” Mr. Douane spoke so sharply that Gretel was very much embarrassed, but the next moment her brother was smiling again, and had said something to make her laugh.
She felt a little uneasy again when she saw the size of the bill her brother handed the waiter, and the small amount of change which was returned to him, but she was beginning to realize that Percy did not like being reproved for extravagance, so she wisely said nothing, although she could not help an uncomfortable fear that he might be obliged to go without breakfast the next morning, as her father had sometimes done.
There was just one subject that Gretel never mentioned once all that afternoon and evening, and that was “fairy-land.” When the orchestra played popular airs, and her brother asked her if she cared for music, she said “Yes” in a rather low voice, and instantly became very much absorbed in her ice-cream. Music was the one thing about which she did not want to talk, or even to think just then. The more she saw of her brother, and the more she loved and admired him, the less possible it seemed that she could ever tell him about the ticket to fairy-land.
It was not yet nine o’clock when Gretel reached home. She and her brother had walked the few blocks from Sherry’s to the apartment-house and the little girl had found the walk through the brightly-lighted city streets with her tall companion very pleasant. She had rather hoped to find the Marshes still out, but the elevator-boy informed them that Mrs. Marsh had already reached home.
“Her friend can’t have asked her to stay to supper, then,” said Gretel, regretfully. “I’m afraid she’ll scold a good deal, but you’ll explain about it all, won’t you, Percy?”
“I certainly will explain,” said Mr. Douane, and his tone sounded so determined that Gretel felt much relieved, even though her brother was looking rather stern, and not nearly as pleasant as he had looked at the restaurant.
It was Mrs. Marsh herself who opened the door, neither Ada nor the colored maid having as yet returned. She was smiling, and greeted Mr. Douane in her “company voice,” but there was something in the glance she gave Gretel, which caused the child’s heart to sink with a foreboding of trouble to come.