"I think my lamp-mat is very pretty," said aunt Madge, kissing Susy; "every bit as pretty as if Prudy hadn't 'been and told.'"
Prudy had bought a shawl-pin for her mother, a fierce little wooden soldier for aunt Madge, and something for everybody else but Susy. Not that she forgot Susy. O, no! but one's money does not always hold out, even at Christmas time.
"Why," said Mr. Parlin, "what is this sticking fast to the sole of my new slipper? Molasses candy, I do believe."
"Yes sir; that's for Susy," cried Prudy, suddenly remembering how she had tucked it in at the last moment, when she could not stop to find any wrapping-paper. "It isn't so big as it was, but it's the biggest piece I had in this world. I saved it last night. Susy likes 'lasses candy, and I couldn't think of nothin' else."
It was a wonder that Prudy's candy had not spoiled some of the nice presents.
Susy received several pretty things; and though she did not talk quite so much as Prudy, she was just as happy. For one thing, she had what she had not dreamed was possible for a little girl—a bottle of otto of rose; "just like a young lady."
This was a real delight to Susy: but Prudy, sniffing at it, said, coolly, "O, ho! it smells 's if it didn't cost more'n a cent! 'Tisn't half so sweet as pep'mint!"
Before Dotty could be put to bed, she had contrived to break several toys, all of which happened to be Susy's—a sugar temple, a glass pitcher, and a small vase.
This was an evening long to be remembered; but the most remarkable event of all was to come.
"Susy, my daughter," said Mr. Parlin, "have you been wondering why you don't see a present from me?"