But it happened that Angelina had received a good mark in spelling on the day before Valentine’s Day and Maria wished to reward it. “I promised,” she said. “It is true, Angelina—tomorrow, on Valentine’s Day, you and Louisa may stop at the store and go in while I go home. You may stay till the sun sets, but no longer. Today I must hurry home and I need you to help with the sweeping.”
The gray cat was on the doorstep in the sun as they reached the brown tenement by the roadside. Angelina lifted it in her arms and Maria turned the key in the lock. They were home again. Tomorrow would be the great day to visit the store and see all of its splendor. That night she dreamed of beautiful valentines and of Marguerite Santos’ red plush cloak.
The morning of Valentine’s Day dawned with pink and gold happiness of sunlight. On the way to school, Louisa and Angelina sang and when school was out they dashed into worn brown cloaks and caps to wait for Maria, who took her time gathering books and pencils for home-work at night. “Hurry, hurry!” they implored. “It is four o’clock. The sun will set by half past four and there will be no time to see the valentines!” And so Maria hurried. At the ten cent store they left her—joy!
Hand in hand they pressed into the crowd. “See, Louisa!” and “Look, Angelina!” they called to each other every minute. But it was Angelina who caught the first glimpse of the valentines. There at the counter was the beautiful red plush cloak of Marguerite Santos bending over the valentines!
Together they pressed past the other children who stood behind that beautiful red plush cloak and they craned their necks to see the valentines as Marguerite Santos, absorbed in the selection of the most beautiful one to be had, turned them over one by one. But there was no envy in the heart of Louisa and Angelina as they watched. It was happiness that was there—of course, if one had been rich like Marguerite Santos—but how nice it was to be where they were! How gay the music of the pianola sounded! Wasn’t it amusing to watch Marguerite Santos buy valentines! But right here she took up the one of the gray pussy-cat!
Angelina nudged Louisa. “See, see!” she whispered. “She likes the pussy-cat. It is not true what Maria said. She is not unmannerly at all. I would like to speak to her and ask her to come to play with me—she has smiled at me many times when I have met her—”
But Louisa shook her head hard. “You must not speak,” she insisted. “Maybe she would not like to have you see what it was that she bought.”
So, when Marguerite Santos wedged her way out of the crowd, she saw neither Angelina nor Louisa. She held her valentine of the pussy-cat tight in its big white envelope—tight upon the front of her red plush cloak. She was concerned with the care of it, lest some rude person bump into her and injure it.
Louisa and Angelina waited a moment and then drifted out of the door after her. The sky was all red and gold with the sunset. It was like some wonderfully bright valentine card, so beautiful! As they turned the corner in the dusky twilight and came upon the doorstone of the brown house that was home, there knelt the beautiful red plush cloak of Marguerite Santos! She was laying the valentine upon the step and was about to knock and run away!
It was Angelina who caught her as she turned. Louisa was lagging behind, with her eyes on the first evening star that flamed white in the sky.