Miss Margaret read the list, and shook with laughter.
"Are you sure there is nothing else?" she inquired. "How much more do
you expect from those poor twenty-five shillings? They can never, by
any possibility, be induced to buy so much. What is the mysterious
P.F.M.?"
"A necessity; can't be crossed out. Oh, dear," groaned Mildred, "what a
bother it is!" She tore off half a sheet of paper this time, and did
not attempt any decorations. Then she went over the items one by one,
sighing heavily as she did so.
"I can't do without shoes; I can't do without slippers; I can't do
without gloves. I might get silk ones, of course, but they make me feel
creepy-creepy all over. I daren't touch anything when I have them on.
I should look like one of those wax figures in shop windows, with my
arms sticking out on either side! I can't do without ribbons; I can't
do--well, I suppose I _could_ wear the old hat as it is, and do without
scent, and a sash, and laces, or any single pretty thing to put on at
night, but I don't want to! They are the most interesting things...
Oh, dear, here goes!" and list number two was dashed off in disgusted
haste.
Shoes.
Slippers.
Sailor Hat.
Gloves. P.F.M.
"That's short enough now! All the fripperies cut out, and the dull
necessities left. I can get these, I suppose, Mardie?"
Miss Margaret believed that she could "with care", whereupon Mildred
wrinkled her saucy nose, and said she should never have any respect for
twenty-five shillings again, since it appeared that so very little could
be obtained in exchange.
The shopping expedition was a great success, however, in spite of all
drawbacks. The purchases were pretty and good of their kind, and
Mildred felt an agreeable sense of virtue in having chosen useful things
rather than ornamental. She had still a little plan of her own which
she was anxious to execute before returning home, and took the
opportunity to make a request while waiting for change in a large
drapery establishment.
"I want to go to another department, Mardie. Do you mind if I leave you
for a few minutes?"
"Not at all. I have some little things to get too. Suppose we arrange
to meet at the door in ten minutes from now?"
Mildred dashed off in her usual impetuous fashion, but presently came to
a standstill before a long, glass-covered counter, on which was
displayed a fascinating assortment of silver and enamel goods. For the
first few moments the assistant in charge took no further notice than a
glance of kindly admiration. School-girls in short dresses, and with
clouds of golden hair hanging loose round their shoulders, are not given
to the purchase of valuable articles such as these; but Mildred
proceeded to ask the price of one thing after another, with an air of
such serious consideration as made it seem likely that she was to be the
exception to the rule.
The glass case was opened, little heart-shaped trays and boxes brought
forth, and such rhapsodies indulged in concerning silver-backed mirrors
that the assistant felt certain of a sale. She was stretching
underneath the glass to reach a mirror of another pattern, when Mildred
suddenly glanced up at a clock, ejaculated "Oh, I must go! Thank you so
much!" and rushed off at full speed in another direction. The ten
minutes were nearly over, and Mildred had not executed the private
business which she had on hand. She turned the corner where parasols
hung in tempting array, passed the fancy work with resolute
indifference, and making a dash for the perfumery counter came into
collision with a lady who was just turning away, parcel in hand.
The lady lifted her eyes in surprise. By all that was mysterious and
unexpected, it was Miss Margaret herself! Mildred blushed, Mardie
laughed.
"What are you doing here, Ubiquitous Person?" she cried, but immediately
turned aside in tactful fashion, and made her way to the door.
No reference to this encounter was made on either side, but later in the
day a comical incident occurred. When Miss Margaret went upstairs to
dress for dinner, she found a small box lying upon her dressing-table,
on the paper covering of which an inscription was written in well-known,
straggly writing:
"_Mardie, with heaps of love and many thanks, from Mildred_."
Inside the box was a bottle of White Rose perfume, at the sight of which
Miss Margaret began to laugh with mysterious enjoyment. When Mildred
appeared a few minutes later, blushing and embarrassed, she said never a
word of thanks, but led her across the room towards a table which had
been specially devoted to her use. Mildred stared around, and then
began to laugh in her turn, for there lay a parcel of precisely the same
shape and size as that which she had addressed a few minutes earlier,
and her own name was written on the cover.
"Great minds think alike!" cried Mardie. "So this is the explanation of
that mysterious `P.F.M.'! But what are the thanks for, dear?"
"Oh, everything! You are so nice, you know, and I've been so nasty!"
said Mildred.