The day after Constance's party brought Marjorie her General. With her
father at home, after a lengthy absence, the sorrow of leaving her dear
ones came forward again. Marjorie tried earnestly to keep all locked
within and succeeded in a measure. Her General was not blind to the
situation, however, and exerted himself on all occasions to keep his
somewhat sober-faced lieutenant in good spirits.
On the morning of the day before Marjorie's departure for college, he
announced his firm intention to help her pack. Nor did he swerve for an
instant from his self-imposed duty. Breakfast over, he chased the
lieutenant, screaming with laughter, up the stairs, landing in the
middle of her "house" with a flying leap which an acrobat might have
envied.
Regardless of his giggling daughter's ideas on the subject of packing,
he swept down upon whatever lay nearest at hand and stowed it into one
of the two open trunks. His efforts at being helpful were brief. Three
determined pairs of hands intercepted his bold attempt to safely caché a
small taboret, a large embroidered doyley, a satin chair cushion, a cut
glass scent bottle and a Japanese vase. The energetic general's services
were summarily dispensed with. He was banished from the room and the
door shut in his face with a bang. In less than fifteen minutes he
announced his return by a tattoo which threatened demolishment to the
door. He was not re-admitted until he had given his word not to meddle
with the packing. When Marjorie cautiously opened the door to him she
found him staggering under a load of pasteboard boxes. He dumped them at
her feet with a bow so profound that he all but stood on his head.
"There you are, unfeeling child!" he exclaimed. "How shocking to have a
daughter who doesn't scruple to turn her poor old father out of her
house!"
"Well, I let you into my house again, didn't I? Just please recall why
you were turned out." Marjorie clasped both arms about her father's neck
and swung on him gleefully. No one could be the least bit sad when
General elected to be funny. Mrs. Dean and Ronny had already busied
themselves with straightening the pile of boxes which had scattered when
dumped to the floor.
"It's a good thing for you that you did," retorted Mr. Dean
significantly. "I might have gone away from the door and never NEVER
have come back again. Then think what you would have missed."
"Oh, you would have had to come back sometime," was the serene
assurance, as Marjorie plumped down on the floor to explore her
newly-acquired riches.
They were all the heart of a girl could wish. One box contained a white
chiffon evening scarf, thickly embroidered with tiny pink daisies. It
draped itself in graceful folds to the waist, the ends reaching to the
hem of her gown. Another held a white velour sports coat, the cut and
design of it being particularly smart. From another box tumbled a dozen
pairs of kid gloves. There was also a box of silk hosiery, another of
fine linen handkerchiefs with butterfly and bowknot corners, her
favorite designs, a box of engraved monogrammed stationery, and a pair
of black satin evening slippers.
One long wide box she had left until the last. The lid removed and the
folds of white tissue paper lifted, Marjorie breathed a little "Oh!" She
stared in admiration at an exquisite evening frock of delicately shaded
Chinese crêpe. It might have represented a spring dawn, shading as it
did from creamy white to pale, indeterminate violet, and from violet to
faintest pink. It was fashioned with a cunning simplicity of design
which made it of the mode, yet strikingly individual. About the hem of
the skirt, around the square neck and short sleeves and on the ends of
the separate sash trailed shadowy clusters of violets, stamped upon the
crêpe with an art known only to the Chinese.
"Where did you find it, General?" she gasped, as she held up the lovely,
shimmering frock for her captain and Ronny to see. "I never expected to
own a dream gown like this."
"It is a spring poem in shades," declared Ronny, lightly touching an end
of the sash. "I can guess where it came from. Only a high-grade Chinese
bazaar could furnish a gown of its kind. There are a few such shops west
of the Mississippi. I never saw a gown so beautiful as this one even in
San Francisco."
"It did not come from a shop. A Chinese merchant sent to China for it as
a gift to Marjorie. In Denver I have a good friend, Mah Waeo, the last
of an ancient Chinese house. He looks like an Eastern nobleman in carved
ivory. He is a fine elderly man of irreproachable business and social
reputation. He is a tea merchant and has great wealth. He lives very
simply and spends most of his business gains in trying to educate and
uplift his own people. We have been fast friends for fifteen years."
"I am familiar with that type of Chinese," Ronny spoke eagerly. "At
home, Father and I have a good Chinese friend, too; Sieguf Tah. He lives
alone on the smallest of his fruit ranches and acts as a benevolent
father to all the China boys around there. The China boys, as they like
to be called, are faithful, wise, intelligent and industrious. Best of
all, they are strictly honest."
"I hope Mah Waeo will sometime make us a visit. I suppose you must have
often invited him, General. He was a perfect dear to take such pains for
a present for me." Marjorie raised a radiant face to her father. "All
this is about the nicest surprise you ever gave me. I can't help liking
my spring poem gown best of all. I shall write to Mah Waeo and tell him
so and ask him myself to please make us a visit someday."
"I don't see how we are going to pack all these new treasures in your
two trunks," Mrs. Dean practically interposed. "We shall have to do some
skilful managing."
"They simply all _must_ go," decreed Marjorie. "I couldn't leave one
behind."
"Which reminds me that I have something for you and Captain which I
brought from the Golden West and have been saving until an appropriate,
moment. With your gracious permission, I will retire and return anon, as
the old-style novelists loved to write."
Attired in a full, half-fitted morning gown of soft white silk, Ronny
spread her arms, bowed down to the floor, East Indian fashion, and made
a quick backward exit from the room.
"I am going to make Ronny dance for us tonight," planned Marjorie. "She
isn't going to pack that frock she has on. It will be a perfect dancing
costume. We will have a little home party tonight; just the four of us.
No; five. I want Delia to be with us, too. I've grown up under Delia's
wing. She has always worked so hard to do her best for me whenever I
have had a party, and she's been so good to me in all ways."
"By all means let us have Delia at our party," heartily indorsed Mr.
Dean. "I shall ask her to dance the minuet with me. Do you think there
will be music? I hope some one will be able to play a minuet fit to be
heard. Did I hear you say that you had practised occasionally this
summer?"
"No, you didn't, you old tease!" Marjorie sprang to her feet and made a
rush at her general.
"Careful! I'm very fragile," he protested. Then he caught her in his
strong arms and held her close. Her face buried against his shoulder,
Marjorie knew that her father had loosed one arm from around her and
drawn Captain into the circle of it
Thus Veronica found them when she returned with her love offerings. She
halted in the doorway, her face alight with tenderness for these three
who had succeeded more nearly than any other persons she had ever known
in living the ideal family life.
In her hand Ronny held two small black leather cases. The one contained
a ring of pure gold, artistically chased with a running vine, and set
with one large, perfect sapphire. This was intended for Marjorie. For
Mrs. Dean she had bought a gold and pearl pin of ancient Peruvian
handiwork. Both pieces of jewelry were from an old Spanish collection.
She had bought them at a private sale in San Leandro for her friends and
now delighted to add her tribute to Marjorie's happiness.
Standing very still in the doorway, her eyes meditatively sought the
cases in her hand. Then she turned and stole noiselessly away from the
little scene of adoration. Ronny knew that Marjorie was taking her real
farewell of her general and captain.