“Then,” said Mrs. Birdwood, “it was a mess. I am glad it was all spilt.” She heaved a sigh. “Oh, Josiah, how could you?”
“I did my level best,” he replied. “Now look here. Do you see that parcel? Open it. It is a silk gown—my Christmas present to you, all ready for you to wear to church to-morrow. It was fitted on Maggie Finch, as she is your size and shape.”
With trembling fingers Mrs. Birdwood opened the parcel and drew forth a really gorgeous silk dress.
“Oh!” she said, “and that Finch——”
“She served as dummy on which to fit it, you know.”
“And that was all that took you to Miss Thomas’s?”
“What more do you want? Not an evening dress also—low-breasted and shoulder-straps?”
“Oh! oh! oh! Josiah, I have been so wicked. I thought—but never mind what I thought. I intended to run away and desert you—fancy!—for ever.”
“Pshaw! you couldn’t do it.”