"Well, first I want you to buy an interesting book, the sort that a boy would like, to cost about six or seven shillings, and have it sent to this address; you can put in my card and say I hope the boy will like it. Are they poor, did you say? No, not very, but this boy is the 'ugly duckling' of the family, and everybody snubs him, they say he is so dull and stupid, and I think a little kindness will help him to assert himself. Then go to the poulterer's, and have a turkey or goose sent to these addresses."
"Oh, Aunt Mary," exclaimed Ella, aghast, "I daren't choose turkeys, I don't know anything about them."
"Stuff and nonsense, my dear!" replied her aunt, who had little pity on ignorance; "it is high time you learnt, then. You had better get a basket of nice hothouse fruit for the Miss Duquenes; they are as proud as princesses and as poor as church mice. I don't believe they get half enough to eat; you must manage to give them some money, somehow."
"Would postal orders do? I could post them in the town, and there is no need to put any name on them."
"Very well; they are nasty new-fangled things, but I suppose you must use them; there were no such things when I was young. And do not forget to go to Miss Alexander's as soon as you can. Dear me! I had no idea Christmas was so near; she ought to have had her order long ago."
"Is that the queer-looking little lady with blue spectacles?"
"Yes; she used to be a governess, but people think no one can teach children unless they have certificates and degrees now-a-days, and her eyesight failed too, so she has to live on a small annuity, but she can see to knit, and she likes to make a few things to sell when she can. You had better ask her to make a nice warm shawl for your mamma, and one of those nice little garments, boot-socks and overalls in one, for the Jenkins' baby; ten to one its mother is sending it out with hardly anything on its poor little legs, and its head and shoulders wrapped up like an Eskimo. You can look round and see if she seems to have anything else made ready, and buy a few little things."
Ella did not much like these vague and general orders; she would much rather have been told exactly how much to pay for each article, but she promised to do her best.
Mrs. Wilson's last commission was to call on an old gentleman, in feeble health, who had lost his money through the failure of a bank, and was now unable to procure any of the comforts which his failing health required; his only son had lately died, and the old man was now alone. The one relic of his past wealth was a store of beautiful old china, which it had been the happiness of his life to collect.
"You must go and call on him, Ella, and say that I want a piece of fine old china for a present, but I cannot go out myself to buy it, and cannot trust you, and I thought he might know of some one who is breaking up a collection. If so, will he kindly choose a piece and send me? Then you see, my dear, if he needs the money he can send me some of his own china."