"Look here, ma'am," she said mysteriously, "don't let anyone see us opening this parcel. Let's go upstairs and open it there, quiet and comfortable."
"What is it, Yates?"
Upstairs in the bedroom, Yates, with many shrewd nods and meaning smiles, untied her parcel, and displayed to Mrs. Marsden its entrancingly fascinating contents.
"Oh, Yates!"
They were the prettiest imaginable little baby-things—woollen socks, flannel robes, etc., articles of costume suitable to the very earliest stage; together with materials for binders, wrappers, and so on, that would require cutting, stitching, making.
"The work will do you good," said Yates. "Just to amuse yourself, when you're sitting all alone up here—and to keep your mind off the strain."
"Oh, Yates, they are lovely. Where did you get them?"
"Don't you bother where I got them," said Yates, looking shame-faced all at once. "I don't intend to tell you." But then she went on defiantly: "Well, if you must know, I got them in the children's outfitting department—over at Bence's."
Her mistress was not in the least angry. She smiled at the sound of the rival's name;—and, of course, in this particular department there was no rivalry between the two shops.