A month or two ago Miss Briggs had informed her relatives that she intended to pass the summer in England, and that it was barely possible that she would ask one of her young cousins to accompany her. Which should be the fortunate one she should not decide until a week before the date fixed for sailing. That would be time enough, she said, for no preparations would be necessary. All the girl's wants could be supplied on the other side.
This proposition sounded very attractive, for Cousin Appolina was generous even though she was so peculiar, and there was no doubt that in addition to having the pleasure of the trip, a well-stocked wardrobe would fall to the share of the lucky recipient of her favor.
As Peggy had said, there was not much probability that she would be the one honored. She had a habit of making all sorts of speeches in Miss Briggs's presence which did not please the good lady at all. And yet no one knew. It would be just like Cousin Appolina's unexpectedness if she were to veer suddenly around and decree that Margaret, as she always called her, should be the one to go to England.
Consequently, suspense and excitement ran high in the Reid family, and in the intervals of study, fair work, and poetry-making there was much discussion as to which of the three should be Miss Appolina's choice.
She herself had gone to Washington for a few weeks, and the family breathed more easily for a time. When so much depended upon it the girls were greatly afraid of doing something to offend their cousin, which might very easily happen, and in that case she would sail alone with her maid!
In the mean time preparations for the fair continued, and at last the day arrived. Millicent, having convinced herself that this would be the best means of securing the recognition of her powers as a poetess that she wanted, the recognition which had hitherto been denied her by unfeeling editors, had been reeling off verse by the yard.
Each poem had been printed in the form of a little fancy booklet, at considerable expense to the author, it is true, but the girls had plenty of pocket money, and Millicent had eased her conscience with the thought that her object was charity as well as recognition, and each copy that was sold would bring in twenty-five cents to the fair. She had raised the price since the poems came home—she had no idea that they would look so attractive, she said. They would be sure to sell.
Peggy had helped her with a readiness that would have appeared suspicions if Millicent had not been too much absorbed in sentiment to notice it. She had accompanied her cousin to make arrangements for having the poems printed, and had inspected them on their return, and now the morning upon which the fair was to open she offered to carry the box which contained them to an office in the neighborhood, and have them sent to Sherry's, where the fair was to be held, by a district telegraph boy.
"It is much better than ringing for a messenger-boy to come to the house," she said, "for then no one can find out in any way who 'Pearl Proctor' is. I shall be on hand when the box arrives so that I can hear what people say, but you had better not come until afterwards, Mill, for your face would be sure to give it away."
The fancy articles, including Miss Briggs's slippers, had already been sent.