A WONDERFUL DAY
AUNT CRETE woke up at last from an uncomfortable dream. She thought
Carrie and Luella had come back, and were about to snatch Donald away
from her and bear him off to the shore.
She arose in haste and smoothed her hair, astonished at the freshness
of her own face in the glass. She was afraid she had overslept and
lost some of the precious time with Donald. There was so much to ask
him, and he was so good to look at. She hurried down and was received
warmly. Donald’s meditations had culminated in a plan.
“Sit down, Aunt Crete; are you sure you are rested? Then I want to
talk. Suppose we run down to the shore and surprise the folks. How soon
could you be ready?”
“O dear heart! I couldn’t do that!” exclaimed Aunt Crete, her face
nevertheless alight with pleasure at the very thought.
“Why not? What’s to hinder?”
“O, I never go. I always stay at home and attend to things.”
“But that’s no reason. Why couldn’t things attend to themselves?”
“Why, I couldn’t leave the house alone.”
“Now, what in the world could possibly happen to the house that you
could prevent by staying in it? Be reasonable, dear aunt. You know the
house won’t run away while you are gone, and, if it does, I’ll get you
another one. You don’t mean to tell me you never go off on a vacation.
Then it’s high time you went, and you’ll have to stay the longer to
make up for lost time. Besides, I want your company. I’ve never seen
the Eastern coast, and expect to enjoy it hugely; but I need somebody
to enjoy it with me. I can’t half take things in alone. I want somebody
my very own to go with me. That’s what I came here for. I had thought
of inviting you all to go down for a little trip; but, as the others
are down there, why, we can join them.”
Aunt Crete’s face clouded. What would Luella say at having them appear
on her horizon? The young man was all right, apparently, but there was
no telling how angry Luella might be if her aunt came. She knew that
Luella preferred to keep her in the background.
“I really couldn’t go, dear,” she said wistfully. “I’d like it with
all my heart. And it would be specially nice to go with you, for I
never had anybody to go round with me, not since your mother was a girl
and used to take me with her wherever she went. I missed her dreadfully
after she was married and went West. She was always so good to me.”
The young man’s face softened, and he reached his hand impulsively
across the table, and grasped the toil-worn hand of his aunt.
“Well, you shall have somebody to go round with you now, auntie; that
is, if you’ll let me. I’m not going to take ‘No’ for an answer. You
just must go. We’ll have a vacation all by ourselves, and do just as we
please, and we’ll bring up at the hotel where Aunt Carrie and Luella
are, and surprise them.”
“But, child, I can’t!” said Aunt Crete in dismay, seeing his
determination. “Why, I haven’t any clothes suitable to wear away from
home. We were all so busy getting Luella fixed out that there wasn’t
any time left for mine, and it didn’t really matter about me anyway. I
never go anywhere.”
“But you’re going now, Aunt Lucretia,” said he; “and it does matter,
you see. Clothes are easily bought. We’ll go shopping after breakfast
to-morrow morning.”
“But I really can’t afford it, Donald,” said his aunt with an air of
finality. “You know I’m not rich. If Carrie weren’t good enough to give
me a home here, I shouldn’t know how to make two ends meet.”
“Never mind that, Aunt Crete; this is my layout, and I’m paying for it.
We’ll go shopping to-morrow morning. I’ve got some money in my pocket
I’m just aching to spend. The fact is, Aunt Crete, I struck gold up
there in the Klondike, and I’ve got more money than I know what to do
with.”
“O!” said Aunt Crete with awe in her voice at the thought of having
more money than one knew what to do with. Then shyly, “But——”
“But what, Aunt Lucretia?” asked Donald as she hesitated and flushed
till the double V came into her forehead in the old helpless, worried
way.
“Why, there’s lots of canning and house-cleaning that has got to be
done, and I don’t really think Carrie would like it to have me leave it
all, and run away on a pleasure excursion.”
Righteous indignation filled the heart of the nephew. “Well, I should
like to know why she wouldn’t like it!” he exclaimed impulsively.
“Has she any better right to have a vacation than you? I’m sure you’ve
earned it. You blessed little woman, you’re going to have a vacation
now, in spite of yourself. Just put your conscience away in pink cotton
till we get back—though I don’t know whether I shall let you come back
to stay. I may spirit you off with me somewhere if I don’t like the
looks of my cousin. I’ll take all the responsibility of this trip. If
Aunt Carrie doesn’t like it, she may visit her wrath on me, and I’ll
tell her just what I think of her. Anyhow, to the shore you are going
right speedily; that is, if you want to go. If there’s some other place
you’d rather go besides to the Traymore, speak the word, and there
we’ll go. I want you to have a good time.”
Aunt Crete gasped with joy. The thought of the ocean, the real ocean,
was wonderful. She had dreamed of it many times, but never had seen it,
because she was always the one who could just as well stay at home as
not. She never got run down or nervous or cross, and was ordered to go
away for her health; and she never insisted upon going when the rest
went. Her heart was bounding as it had not bounded since the morning
of the last Sunday-school picnic she had attended when she was a girl.
“Indeed, dear boy, I do want to go with all my heart if I really ought.
I have always wanted to see the ocean, and I can’t imagine any place
I’d rather go than the Traymore, Luella’s talked so much about it.”
“All right. Then it’s settled that we go. How soon can we get ready?
We’ll go shopping to-morrow morning bright and early, and get a
trunkful of new clothes. It’s always nice to have new things when you
go off; you feel like another person, and don’t have to be sewing
on buttons all the time,” laughed Donald, as if he was enjoying the
whole thing as much as his aunt. “I meant to have a good time getting
presents for the whole family; but, as they aren’t here, I’m going to
get them all for you. You’re not to say a word. Have you got a trunk?”
“Trunk? No, child. I haven’t ever had any need for a trunk. The time I
went to Uncle Hiram’s funeral I took Carrie’s old haircloth one, but
I don’t know ’s that’s fit to travel again. Carrie’s got her flannels
packed away in camphor in it now, and I shouldn’t like to disturb it.”
“Then we’ll get a trunk.”
“O, no,” protested Aunt Crete; “that would be a foolish expense.
There’s some pasteboard boxes up-stairs. I can make out with them in a
shawl-strap. I sha’n’t need much for a few days.”
“Enlarge your scale of things, Aunt Crete. You’re going to stay more
than a few days. You’re going to stay till you’re tired, and just want
to come back. As we’re going to a ‘swell’ hotel,”—Donald reflected that
Aunt Crete could not understand his reference to Luella’s description
of the Traymore,—“we can’t think of shawl-straps and boxes. You shall
have a good big trunk. I saw an advertisement of one that has drawers
and a hat-box in it, like a bureau. We’ll see if we can find one to
suit.”
“It sounds just like the fairy tales I used to read to Luella when she
was a little girl,” beamed Aunt Crete. “It doesn’t seem as if it was I.
I can’t make it true.”
“Now let’s write down a list of things you need,” said the eager
planner; “we’ll have to hurry up things, and get off this week if
possible. I’ve been reading the paper, and they say there’s coming
a hot wave. I need to get you to the shore before it arrives, if
possible. Come; what shall I put down first? What have you always
thought you’d like, Aunt Crete? Don’t you need some silk dresses?”
“O dear heart! Hear him! Silk dresses aren’t for me. Of course I’ve
always had a sort of hankering after one, but nothing looks very well
on me. Carrie says my figure is dumpy. I guess, if you’re a mind to,
you can get me a lace collar. It’ll please me as well as anything.
Luella saw some for a quarter that were real pretty. She bought one
for herself. I think it would do to wear with my new pin, and all my
collars are pretty much worn out.”
“Now look here, Aunt Crete! Can’t I make you understand? I mean
business, and no collars for a quarter are going to do. You can have a
few cheap ones for morning if you want them, but we’ll buy some real
lace ones to wear with the pin. And you shall have the silk dress, two
or three of them, and a lot of other things. What kind do you want?”
“O my dear boy! You just take my breath away. I with two or three
silk dresses! The idea! Carrie would think me extravagant, and Luella
wouldn’t like it a bit. She always tells me I’m too gay for my years.”
Donald set his lips, and wished he could have speech for a few minutes
with the absent Luella. He felt that he would like to express his
contempt for her treatment of their aunt.
“I’ve always thought I’d like a gray silk,” mused Aunt Crete with a
dreamy look in her eyes, “but I just know Luella would think it was too
dressy for me. I suppose black would be better. I can’t deny I’d like
black silk, too.”
“We’ll have both,” said Donald decidedly. “I saw a woman in a
silver-gray silk once. She had white hair like yours, and the effect
was beautiful. Then you’ll need some other things. White dresses, I
guess. That’s what my chum’s grandmother used to wear when I went there
visiting in the summer.”
“White for me!” exclaimed the aunt. “O, Luella would be real angry at
me getting white. She says it’s too conspicuous for old women to dress
in light colors.”
“Never mind Luella. We’re doing this, and whatever we want goes. If
Luella doesn’t like it, she needn’t look at it.”
Aunt Crete was all in a flutter that night. She could hardly sleep. She
did not often go to town. Luella did all the shopping. Sometimes she
suggested going, but Carrie always said it was a needless expense,
and, besides, Luella knew how to buy at a better bargain. It was a
great delight to go with Donald. Her face shone, and all the weariness
of the day’s work, and all the toilsome yesterdays, disappeared from
her brow.
She looked over her meagre wardrobe, most of it cast-offs from Carrie’s
or Luella’s half-worn clothing, and wrote down in a cramped hand a few
absolute necessities. The next morning they had an early breakfast, and
started at once on their shopping-expedition. Aunt Crete felt like a
little child being taken to the circus. The idea of getting a lot of
new clothes all for herself seemed too serious a business to be true.
She was dazed when she thought of it; and so, when Donald asked what
they should look at first, she showed plainly that she would be little
help in getting herself fitted out. She was far too happy to bring
her mind down to practical things, and, besides, she could not adjust
herself to the vast scale of expenditure Donald had set.
“Here are some collars,” said Donald. “We might as well begin on those.”
Aunt Crete examined them with enthusiasm, and finally picked out two at
twenty-five cents apiece.
“Are those the best you have?” questioned Donald.
“O, no,” said the saleswoman, quick to identify the purchaser that did
not stop at price; “did you want real or imitation?”
“Real, by all means,” he answered promptly.
“O Donald,” breathed Aunt Crete in a warning whisper, “real lace comes
dreadful high. I’ve heard Luella say so. Besides, I shouldn’t have
anything to wear it with, nor any place to go fixed up like that.”
“Have you forgotten you’re going to the Traymore in a few days?” he
asked her with a twinkle in his eye. “And what about the gray silk?
Won’t it go with that? If not, we’ll get something better.”
Assisted by the saleswoman, they selected two beautiful collars of real
lace, and half a dozen plain ones for commoner wear.
“Couldn’t you go with us?” asked Donald of the saleswoman as the
purchase was concluded. “My aunt wishes to get a good many things, and
neither she nor I is much used to shopping. We’d like to have your
advice.”
“I’m sorry; I’d like to, but I’m not allowed to leave this counter,”
said the woman with a kindly smile. “I’m head of this department, and
they can’t get along without me this morning. But they have buyers in
the office just for that purpose. You go up to the desk over on the
east side just beyond the rotunda, and ask for a buyer to go around
with you. Get Miss Brower if you can, and tell her the head of the lace
department told you to call for her. She’ll tell you just what to get,”
and she smiled again at Aunt Crete’s kindly, beaming face.
They went to the desk, and found Miss Brower, who, when she heard the
message, took them smilingly under her wing. She knew that meant a
good sale had been made, and there would be something in it for her.
Besides, she had a kindly disposition, and did not turn up a haughty
nose at Aunt Crete’s dumpy little figure.
“Now, just what do you want first?” she asked brightly.
“Everything,” said Donald helplessly. “We’ve only bought a lace collar
so far, and now we want all the rest of the things to go with it. The
only things we’ve decided on so far are two silk dresses, a black one
and a silver-gray. How do we go about it to get them? Do they have them
ready-made?”
“Nothing that would be quite suitable, I’m afraid, in silks. But we’ll
go and see what there is in stock,” said the assistant with skilful
eye, taking in Aunt Crete’s smiling, helpless face, lovely white
hair, dumpy, ill-fitted figure, and all. “There might be a gray voile
that would suit her. In fact, I saw one this morning, very simple and
elegant, lined with gray silk, and trimmed with lace dyed to match.
It is a beauty, and just reduced this morning to thirty dollars from
sixty. I believe it will fit her.”
Aunt Crete gasped at the price, and looked at Donald; but he seemed
pleased, and said: “That sounds good. Let’s go and see it. We’ll have a
gray—what was it you called it—voile? Remember that name, Aunt Crete.
You’re going to have a gray voile. But we want the silk too. Do they
make things here? We want to go away in a few days, and would like to
take them with us.”
“O, yes, they’ll make anything to order; and this time of year we’re
not so busy. I guess you could get a ‘hurry-up’ order on it, and have
it done in a couple of days; or it could be forwarded to you if it was
not quite finished when you left.”
They stepped into the elevator, and in a trice were ushered into the
presence of the rare and the imported. Aunt Crete stood in a maze of
delight and wonder. All this was on exhibition just for her benefit,
and she was Alice in Wonderland for the hour. Donald stood back with
his arms folded, and watched her with satisfaction. One thing alone
was wanted to complete it. He would have liked to have Luella up in
the gallery somewhere watching also. But that he held in anticipation.
Luella should be made to understand that she had done wrong in
underrating this sweet, patient soul.
[Illustration: “DONALD WATCHED HER WITH SATISFACTION”]
The gray voile was entirely satisfactory to the two shoppers. Donald
recognized it as the thing many women of his acquaintance wore at
the receptions he had attended in university circles. Aunt Crete
fingered it wistfully, and had her inward doubts whether anything so
frail and lovely, like a delicate veil, would wear; but, looking at
Donald’s happy face, she decided not to mention it. The dress was more
beautiful than anything she had ever dreamed of possessing. “But it
won’t fit me,” she sighed as she and Miss Brower were on the way to the
“trying-on” room, where the garment was to be fitted to her. “I’m so
dumpy, you know, and Luella always says it’s no use to get me anything
ready-made.”
“O, the fitter will make it fit,” said Miss Brower convincingly;
and then, with a glance at the ample waist, whose old-fashioned lines
lay meekly awry as if they were used to being put on that way and were
beyond even discouragement: “Why don’t you wear one of those stiffened
waists? There’s a new one on sale, has soft bones all around, and is
real comfortable. It would make your dresses set a great deal better.
If you like, I’ll go get one, and you can be fitted over it. You don’t
like anything very tight, do you?”
“No,” said Aunt Crete in a deprecatory tone, “I never could bear
anything real tight. That’s what puts Luella out so about me. But, if
you say there’s a waist that’s comfortable, I should be so obliged if
you’d get it. I’d be willing to pay any price not to look so dumpy.”
She felt that if it took the last cent she possessed, and made all her
relatives angry with her, she must have something to fit her once.
Miss Brower, thus commissioned, went away, and returned very soon with
the magical waist that was to transform Miss Lucretia’s “figger.” If
Donald could have seen his aunt’s face when she was finally arrayed in
the soft folds of the gray voile and was being pinned up and pinned
down and pinned in and pinned out, he would have been fully repaid.
Aunt Crete’s ecstasy was marred only by the fact that Luella could
not see her grandeur. Actually being fitted in a department-store to
a “real imported” dress! Could mortal attain higher in this mundane
sphere?
When the fitting was pronounced done and Aunt Crete was about to don
her discouraged shirt-waist once more, Miss Brower appeared in the
doorway with a coat and skirt suit over her arm, made of fine soft
black taffeta.
“Just put this on and let the gentleman see how he likes it,” she
said. She had been out to talk over matters with Donald and have an
understanding as to what was wanted. She had advised the taffeta coat
and skirt for travelling, with an extra cloth coat for cool days. Aunt
Crete, with the new dignity that consciousness of her improved figure
gave her, rustled out to her nephew looking like a new woman, her face
beaming.
That was a wonderful day. Aunt Crete retired again for the black
taffeta to be altered a little, and yet again for a black and white
dotted swiss, and a white linen suit, and a handsome black crêpe
de chine, and then to have the measure taken for the silver-gray
silk, which the head dressmaker promised could be hurried through.
They bought a black chiffon waist and some filmy, dreamy white
shirt-waists, simple and plain in design, with exquisite lace simply
applied, fine hand-made tucks, and finer material. Miss Brower advised
white linen and white lawn for morning wear at the seashore, and gave
Aunt Crete confidence, telling how she had a customer, “a woman about
as old as you, with just such lovely white hair,” who but yesterday
purchased a set of white dresses for morning wear at the seashore. This
silenced the thoughts of her sister’s horror at “White for you, Crete!
What are you thinking of?” Never mind, she was going to have one good
time, even if she had to put all her lovely finery away in a trunk
afterwards, and never bring it out again, or—dreary thought—were made
to cut it over for Luella sometime. Well, it might come to that, but at
least she would enjoy it while it was hers.
Two white linen skirts, a handsome black cloth coat, several pairs of
silk gloves, black and white, some undergarments dainty enough for a
bride, a whole dozen pairs of stockings! How Aunt Crete rejoiced in
those! She had been wearing stockings whose feet were cut out of old
stocking legs for fifteen years. She couldn’t remember when she had had
a whole new pair of stockings all her own. And then two new bonnets.
All these things were acquired little by little. It was while they were
in the millinery department, and Miss Brower had just set a charming
black lace bonnet made on a foundation of white roses on the white
hair, that Donald decided she was one of the most beautiful old ladies
he had ever seen. The drapery was a fine black lace scarf, which swept
around the roses and tied loosely on the breast; and it gave the quiet
little woman a queenly air. She was getting used to seeing her own
face in strange adornments, but it startled her to see that she really
looked handsome in this bonnet. She stood before the transformation in
the mirror almost in awe, and never heard what Miss Brower was saying:
“That’s just the thing for best, and there’s a lovely lace wrap in the
cloak department she ought to have to go with it. It would be charming.”
“Get it,” said Donald with respectful brevity. He was astonished
himself at the difference mere clothes made. Aunt Crete was fairly
impressive in her new bonnet. And the lace wrap proved indeed to be the
very mate to the bonnet, hiding the comfortable figure, and making her
look “just like other people,” as she breathlessly expressed it after
one glance at herself in the lace wrap.
They bought a plain black bonnet, a sweet little gray one, a fine silk
umbrella, a lot of pretty belts and handkerchiefs, some shoes and
rubbers, a hand-bag of cut steel, for which Luella would have bartered
her conscience—what there was left of it; and then they smiled good-by
at Miss Brower, and left her for a little while, and went to lunch.
Such a lunch! Soup, and fish, and spring lamb, and fresh peas, and new
potatoes, and two kinds of ice-cream in little hard sugar cases that
looked like baked snow-balls. Aunt Crete’s hand trembled as she took
the first spoonful. The wonders of the day had been so great that she
was fairly worn out, and two little bright red spots of excitement had
appeared in her cheeks, but she was happy! Happier than she remembered
ever to have been in her life before. Her dear old conscience had a
moment of sighing that Luella could not have been there to have enjoyed
it too, and then her heart bounded in wicked gleefulness that Luella
was not there to stop her nice time.
They went into a great hall in the same store, and sat among the palms
and coolness made by electric fans, while a wonderful organ played
exquisite music, and Aunt Crete felt she certainly was in heaven
without the trouble of dying; and she never dreamed, dear soul, that
she had been dying all her life that others might live, and that it is
to such that the reward is promised.
They went back to Miss Brower later; and behold! the silver-gray
silk had been cut out, and was ready to fit. Aunt Crete felt it was
fairy-work, the whole of it, and she touched the fabric as if it had
been made by magic.
Then they went and bought a trunk and a handsome leather satchel, and
Donald took a notion that his aunt must have a set of silver combs for
her hair such as he saw in the hair of another old lady.
“Now,” said Donald reflectively, “we’ll go home and get rested, and
to-morrow we’ll come down and buy any things we’ve forgotten.”
“And I’m sure I don’t see what more a body could possibly need,” said
Aunt Crete, as, tired and absolutely contented, she climbed into the
train and sat down in the hot plush seat.
The one bitter drop in the cup of bliss came the next morning—or rather
two drops—in the shape of letters. One from Aunt Carrie for Donald was
couched in stiffest terms, in which she professed to have just heard of
his coming, and to be exceedingly sorry that she was not at home, and
was kept from returning only by a sprained ankle, the doctor telling
her that she must not put her foot to the ground for two or three weeks
yet, or she would have to suffer for it.
The other letter was for Aunt Crete, and was a rehash of the telephone
message, with a good sound scolding for having gone away from the
telephone before she finished speaking. Luella had written it herself
because she felt like venting her temper on some one. The young man
that had been so attentive to her in town had promenaded the piazza
with another young woman all the evening before. Luella hoped Aunt
Crete would put up plenty of gooseberry jam. Aunt Crete put on her
double V as she read, and sighed for a full minute before Donald looked
up amused from his letter.
“Now, Aunt Crete, you look as if a mountain had rolled down upon you.
What’s the matter?”
“O, I’m just afraid, Donald, that I’m doing wrong going off this way,
when Carrie expects me to do all this canning and sewing and cleaning.
I’m afraid she’ll never forgive me.”
“Now, Aunt Crete, don’t you love me? Didn’t I tell you I’d stand
between you and the whole world? Please put that letter up, and come
and help me pack your new trunk. Do you want that gray silk put in
first, or shall I put the shoes at the bottom? Don’t you know you and I
are going to have the time of our lives? We’re going to run away from
every care. Do you suppose your own sister would want you to stay here
roasting in the city if she knew you had a nephew just aching to carry
you off to the ocean? Come, forget it. Cut it out, Aunt Crete, and
let’s pack the trunk. I’m longing to be off to smell the briny deep.”
And laughingly he carried her away, and plunged her into thoughts
of her journey, giving her no time the rest of the day to think of
anything else.