A HAPPY AFTERNOON
Grace was the first to arrive, and she declared that she wished that
she was in Sylvia's place and need not go to school another day.
The two little friends stood at the window watching for Flora, and it
was not long before they saw her coming up the walk, closely followed
by her black "Mammy," who was carrying two baskets. One of these seemed
very heavy.
"What can be in Mammy's basket, I wonder?" said Grace. "And, look,
Sylvia! Flora isn't wearing the blue cockade! That's because she is
coming to visit you. She had it on at school this morning."
Flora wore the same pretty velvet turban which she had worn on Sylvia's
last day at school. She had on a cape of garnet-colored velvet, and as
she came running into the room Sylvia looked at her with admiring eyes.
"You do look so pretty, Flora! And I am so glad to see you. Come
up-stairs to my room and take off your things."
"It isn't half the fun going to school now that you don't come,
Sylvia," responded Flora, as the three friends went up the broad
staircase together. "Mammy," with her baskets, followed them, and when
she had helped her little mistress lay aside her cape and hat, Flora
said:
"You can go home now, Mammy, And my mother will tell you when to come
after me."
"Yas, Missy," responded the old colored woman, and with a curtsey to
each of the little girls she left the room.
"What makes your mammy look so sober, Flora?" questioned Grace. "She is
usually all smiles; but to-day she hasn't a word to say for herself."
"Oh, the darkies are all stirred up over all this talk about their
being set free," Flora answered, "and even Mammy, who was Mother's
nurse, and has always been well taken care of, thinks it would be a
fine thing for her children and grandchildren to be 'jes' like white
folks,'" and Flora laughed scornfully.
"But that needn't make her look sober!" insisted Grace.
"I reckon she's upset because my mother sold two or three little slaves
yesterday--Mammy's grandchildren," Flora answered carelessly.
Sylvia could feel her face flushing, and she said over to herself that
no matter what Flora said that she, Sylvia, must remember that Flora
was her guest. Beside that, had not Flora taken off the blue cockade so
that Sylvia would not be reminded of the trouble at school?
But Grace felt no such restraints. She was a southern girl as well as
Flora, but she was sorry for the old colored woman.
"Well, I do wish we could keep the pickaninnies until they grow up. It
seems a shame when they feel so bad to be sold off to strangers. And
some of them are abused too," she said.
"You talk as if they felt just the same as we do, and that's silly,"
Flora declared; "but Philip talks just the same. He says he is going to
give Dinkie her freedom," and she turned toward the two baskets which
Mammy had set down with such care near Molly and Polly.
"I brought my lace-work, and Mother has fixed a cushion for you,
Sylvia, and one for Grace, too. See! The pattern is begun on each one,
and I will give you both lessons until you know as much as I do." As
Flora talked she had opened the smaller basket and taken out two square
boxes and handed one to each of her friends.
"Open them," she said, nodding smilingly.
The box which she handed to Sylvia was covered with plaited blue silk.
It had a narrow edge of gilt braid around the cover. Grace's box was
covered with yellow silk, but the boxes were of the same size.
As Sylvia and Grace lifted the covers they smiled and exclaimed
happily. The lace cushion lay inside, and in dainty little pockets on
each side of the boxes were the delicate threads and materials for the
lace. A thimble of gold, with "Sylvia from Flora" engraved around its
rim, was in Sylvia's box, and one exactly like it was in Grace's box.
"Oh, Flora Hayes! This is the most beautiful present that ever was!"
declared Sylvia; and Grace, holding the box with both hands, was
hopping up and down saying over and over: "Flora! You are just like the
Golden Princess in a fairy story who gives people what they want most."
"My mother made the boxes herself," Flora explained proudly. "I wanted
to give you girls something, and I'm awfully glad you like them." Then
Flora stood up quickly.
"Girls! I dressed up in Mother's hat and skirt, that night at the
plantation. It wasn't Lady Caroline."
She spoke very rapidly as if she wished to finish as quickly as
possible. It was not easy to think of Flora Hayes as being ashamed, but
Sylvia felt quite sure that Flora felt sorry that she had attempted to
deceive her friends.
"I knew it all the time," said Grace slowly, "and I told Sylvia it was
you; didn't I, Sylvia?"
"Yes," said Sylvia, "and we knew you were sure to tell us about it,
Flora. But you did look just like the picture of Lady Caroline."
Flora sat down. It had been so much easier to confess than she had
expected. Neither Grace nor Sylvia had seemed resentful or surprised.
"You didn't tell me that you knew," she said, a little accusingly.
"Oh, well, we couldn't do that, Flora. You see we were your guests,"
Grace explained.
"And we knew you were sure to tell us," Sylvia added.
Flora was silent for a moment. She was thinking that both her friends
had been rather fine about the whole affair. They had not run screaming
from their room on the appearance of the "ghost," and alarmed the
house, and so brought discovery and punishment and shame upon her;
neither had they resented her not confessing.
"Well, I do think you two girls are the nicest girls in this town," she
declared, "and I am mighty proud that you are my friends. I can tell
you one thing: I'll never try to make anyone believe in ghosts again. I
was half frightened to death myself when I crept up those stairs, and
my shoulder has been lame ever since."
Grace and Sylvia had wondered what the large basket contained, but in
their interest over Flora's beautiful gifts, and their delight in her
"owning up" to being the "ghost," they had quite forgotten about it. It
was Flora who now pointed at it and said laughingly: "I've brought my
dolls in that basket."
"Molly and Polly will be glad enough to have company," Sylvia assured
her.
Flora opened the basket and took out a large black "mammy" in a purple
dress, white apron, and a yellow handkerchief twisted turban-fashion
about her head.
"Mammy Jane always goes with the young ladies," she explained
laughingly, and took out two fine china dolls dressed in white muslin
with broad crimson silk sashes. Each of these fine ladies had a tiny
parasol of crimson silk.
"I'm going home after my dolls," exclaimed Grace, and while Sylvia
brought cushions for these unexpected visitors, and introduced them to
Molly and Polly, Grace hurried home and was soon back again with her
own treasured dolls, which she introduced as "Mr. and Mrs. and Miss
Delaney."
The lesson in lace-making was quite forgotten as the three girls played
with the array of dolls.
Sylvia ran to the door and called Estralla, who appeared so quickly
that Sylvia wondered where she could have been. Estralla was told that
she must help "Mammy Jane" take care of the doll visitors, and the
little negro's face beamed with pleasure. Not one of the little girls
in the pleasant room was as happy as Estralla; and when supper was
ready and Sylvia and her friends went down-stairs, leaving Estralla in
charge of all the dolls, she could hardly believe in her good fortune,
and, as usual, was sure it was all due to her beloved Missy Sylvia.
After supper the dolls were all invited downstairs to be introduced to
Sylvia's father and mother; and Estralla, smiling and delighted, was
entrusted with bringing "Mammy Jane."
The three friends often looked back on that happy afternoon, for on the
very next day Mr. Hayes decided to move his family to the plantation,
and it was many days before Sylvia, Grace and Flora were to be together
again. The citizens of Charleston, in December, 1860, were becoming
anxious as to what might befall them. Very soon it might be possible
that South Carolina would secede from the Union, and war with the
northern states might follow. In such a case the guns of Fort Sumter
and Fort Moultrie might fire on Charleston, and many planters who had
homes in Charleston were sending their families to their country homes.
Northern men who had business in Charleston were also anxious, and
Sylvia did not know that her own father was seriously considering a
return to Boston.
But the little girls bade each other good-night with happy smiles and
laughter, and without a thought but that they would have many more
pleasant times together.
Sylvia did not even think of the lace-making until she brought down her
pretty box to show to her mother and father.
"The Charleston people have been so kind to us," Mrs. Fulton said, a
little sadly.
"They are the most courteous and kindly people in the world," declared
Mr. Fulton.
Sylvia went up to her room wondering why her mother and father seemed
so serious, when everything was so lovely. She had almost forgotten her
adventure of the previous night, and went happily to bed with Flora's
pretty gift on the light-stand beside her bed.