“Well, I made a scarf once for my dolly. I wish I could make some mittens for Lucy!”
“That’s the very thing! I’ll buy you some worsteds this afternoon,” said Aunt Charlotte, as she rang Mrs. Adams’s door-bell; and Flaxie “smiled” up her face in a minute, exclaiming:
“Red, auntie, please get ’em red!”
They had a lovely time with Mrs. Adams’s gold-fish, and parrot, and canary; but after all it was the vision of those red mittens that eased the ache at Flaxie’s poor little heart.
Auntie was all patience next morning, and her young niece all smiles; and between them the ivory hook and the red worsteds kept moving.
“Lucy can’t say ‘thank you,’ but her mamma’ll be so pleased,” said Flaxie, her face beaming. She really thought she was making the mittens herself, because she took a stitch now and then.
“What, working on Sunday?” said teasing Johnny.
“Oh, it isn’t Sunday, and I didn’t come Friday, and I can wait two weeks to see my mamma. You see I didn’t know there was a little girl I could make mittens for, or I shouldn’t have cried,” said Flaxie, stopping a moment to kiss the baby.
The mittens were lovely. Aunt Charlotte finished them off at the wrists with a tufted border. Lucy couldn’t say “thank you,” but her poor mother was delighted, and fastened them to the child’s cloak by a string, so they wouldn’t be lost.
The moment Milly got home from Troy and had been kissed all around, Flaxie said: