_A man may know his own boots when he
sees them, and yet not recognise his own joke._
Diana did everything that was asked of her as tenant of Glenbossie
and more. She loved the Minister’s wife, her soft voice and gentle
manner, and when she asked Diana to come to the Sale, to be held in the
schools, Diana said, of course she would come, and on the appointed day
she went down to the schools with her pockets full of Uncle Marcus’s
money, and on her way she passed old women whom she loved for the
mutches they wore, and for the smiles within them. Every one had a soft
word for her and a smile. When she got to the schools she did not stop
to wonder why so many people were gathered together outside the door.
They made way for her, and she went in and she bought all the shirts
and all the socks: praised the making of them—and wondered at their
strength and their softness—the softness of the socks and strength
of the shirts. She bought other things, less useful, and perhaps not
strictly beautiful, but she paid for them all right royally.
As she was the only person there she bought everything she could lay
hands on, remembering the soft voice and the gentle manner of the
Minister’s wife. One or two stall-holders, she remembered afterwards,
did protest faintly: but she thought they were only afraid she was
being too generous.
Having bought most things she rested from her labours, and walking to
the window looked out, and saw sailing down upon the schoolhouse a
party consisting of a very small, but very important-looking mother,
and a charming-looking daughter and several other people, and she knew
them to be the Scott party. Very important people were the Scotts—very
important was their party. It was trimmed with white heather. The men
wore kilts and the women the next best things. They all wore tartan
stockings and some—some men, bonnets.
Diana’s heart began to fail. The Minister was at the door to meet
the Scott party and he welcomed Mrs. Scott and them all with great
ceremony, and Mrs. Scott smiled upon him and said how delighted she was
to open the bazaar.
The Minister consulted his watch in answer to her question, “Was she
late?” and it was found she was not late.
“Not late, perhaps,” thought Diana, “but everything was sold!”
After the opening of the Sale with prayer, Mrs. Scott proclaimed it
ready for buyers and she hoped that people would buy as many things
as they could, and spend as much money as they—had—no, not that; but
as much as they could spare! The crowd that had gathered outside now
filled the hall.
The first shirt Mrs. Scott lost her heart to was sold, and the next.
And the socks? Yes, sold!
Then Diana went round to all the stall-holders and assured them she had
bought nothing—they might keep the money, but the things must be sold
again. “Let me have afterwards what Mrs. Scott doesn’t want,” she said.
Mrs. Scott thanked Diana for coming, said she remembered her so well,
at the—whose ball, was it? She told her Ralph St. Jermyn was coming to
stay with them. “But I must do my duty. Have you found anything to buy?
It is so kind of you. There will be lots for us all.” And she went on
her way buying all the things Diana had already bought. It was a very
good way of selling from the stall-holders’ point of view, and they had
never made so much before at any sale in Loch Bossie, and in Scotland
they make more by bazaars than in any other country in the world.
Diana made her escape so soon as she could, greatly to the
disappointment of some of the Scott party, and she vowed to Uncle
Marcus she would never go to another sale so long as she lived. He
asked her at what time she had gone, and she said at three o’clock—why?
He said he had only wondered because the Sale was to be opened at
half-past three by Mrs. Scott.
“She must never know,” said Diana.
“Never!” agreed Uncle Marcus, and he put out his hand for the change
(there are very few men who don’t ask for change) and he did not
express that pleasure he ought to have experienced when he realized how
greatly the Sale had benefitted by the officiousness of his niece.
When the parcel came from the bazaar for Diana there were within it
neither the socks she had promised Pillar, nor the shirts longed for
by John and Sandy, but only those things Mrs. Scott and others had not
been requiring.
Two egg-cosies in tartan cloth.
One piano-key-cover in dark brown serge, worked in yellow silks.
One tea-cosy crocheted in string, lined with red sateen.
One shoe-bag in brown holland and bound with green braid.
One crazy patchwork cushion cover.
One bib.