The Boarder looked sheepish.

"You see, Amarilly, I'm akeepin' stiddy company with a little gal."

"I seen you and her this arternoon. She's orful purty," said Amarilly reflectively. "She looked kinder delikit, though. What's her name?"

"Lily--Lily Rose. Ain't that a purty name?"

"Beautiful. The lily part jest suits her. She's like a flower--a white flower. But what do you want the surplus fer?"

"You see," began the Boarder, coming by circuitous route to his subject, "gals git notions in their heads sometimes when they air in--"

"Love," promptly supplied the comprehending little girl.

"Yes," he a.s.sented with a fiery blush. "And she wants fer me to hev my likeness took so I kin give it to her."

"Thar ain't nothin' foolish about that!" declared Amarilly.

"No; but I never sot fer one yet. I wouldn't mind, but you see she's got it in her head that I am good-looking--"

"Well, you be," corroborated Amarilly decisively.

"And she wants me fer to dress up like a preacher. I told her about Hallie Hudgers lookin' so swell in the surplus, and she wants, as I should dress up in it and set fer my likeness in it."

"I think it would be fine!" approved Amarilly. "You sure would look nicer nor Hallie did."

"Well, I wouldn't look like a dead one," admitted the Boarder. "But I was orful afraid you'd laugh. Then I kin rent it fer an hour to-morrer ef it ain't got no other dates."

"You can't _rent_ it. You can take it fer an hour, or so long as you like," she a.s.sured him.

"You'll hev to take a quarter anyway, fer luck. Mebby 'twill bring me luck awinnin' her."

The photograph of the Boarder in saintly attire was p.r.o.nounced a great success. Before the presentation he had it set in a frame made of gilt network studded with sh.e.l.ls.

Lily Rose spent her leisure moments gazing upon it with the dream- centred eyes of a young devotee before a shrine.

The next wearing of the surplice was more in accord with its original design. In the precinct adjoining the one in which lived and let live the Jenkins family, a colored Episcopal church had recently been established. The rector had but one surplice, and that had been stolen from the clothes-line, mayhap by one of his dusky flock; thus it was that Amarilly received a call from the Reverend Virgil Washington, who had heard of the errant surplice, which he offered to purchase.

Naturally his proposition was met by a firm and unalterable refusal. It would have been like selling a golden goose to dispose of such a profitable commodity. He then asked to rent it for a Sunday while he was having one made. This application, being quite in Amarilly's line of business, met with a ready a.s.sent.

"You can hev it fer a dollar," she offered.

The bargain was finally closed, although it gave Amarilly more than a pa.s.sing pang to think of the snowy folds of Mr. St. John's garment adorning an Ethiopian form.

One day there came to the Jenkins home a most unusual caller. The novel presence of the "mailman" at their door brought every neighbor to post of observation. His call was for the purpose of leaving a gayly-colored postal card addressed to "Miss Amarilly Jenkins." It was from Derry, and she spent many happy moments in deciphering it. His writing was microscopic, and he managed to convey a great deal of information in the allotted small s.p.a.ce. He inquired solicitously concerning the surplice, and bade her be a good girl and not forget the two words he had taught her. "I have ordered all my meals as though you were with me," he wrote in conclusion.

Amarilly laid the card away with her wedding waist. Then, with the Boarder's aid, she indited an answer on a card that depicted the Barlow Theatre.

The next event for Amarilly was an invitation to attend the wedding of Mrs. Hubbleston, a buxom, bustling widow for whom Mrs. Jenkins washed.

In delivering the clothes, Amarilly had come to be on very friendly terms with the big, light-hearted woman, and so she had been asked to a.s.sist in the serving of refreshments on the eventful night.

"I've never been to a wedding," said Amarilly wistfully. "I've been to most everything else, and I would like to see you wed, but I ain't got no clo'es 'cept my hair-ribbons."

Mrs. Hubbleston looked at her contemplatively.

"My last husband's niece's little girl left a dress here once when she was going home after a visit. She had hardly worn it, but she had outgrown it, and her ma told me to give it away. I had 'most forgotten about it. I believe it would just fit you. Let us see."

She produced a white dress that adjusted itself comfortably to Amarilly's form.

"You look real pretty in white, Amarilly. You shall have this dress for your own."

On the nuptial night Amarilly, clad in the white gown and with black velvet hair-ribbons, went forth at an early hour to the house of festivity.

Mrs. Hubbleston, resplendent in a glittering jetted gown, came into the kitchen to see that things were progressing properly.

"Ain't you fl.u.s.tered?" asked Amarilly, looking at her in awe.

"Land, no, child! I have been married four times before this, you see, so it comes natural. There goes the doorbell. It must be Mr. Jimmels and the minister."

In a few moments she returned to the kitchen for sympathy.

"I am so disappointed," she sighed, "but then, I might have expected something would happen. It always does at my weddings."

"What is it?" asked Amarilly, apprehensive lest the wedding might be declared off.

"I've been married once by a Baptist minister, once by a Methodist, and the third time by a Congregationalist; last time a Unitarian tied the knot. So this once I thought I would have an Episcopal, because their white robe lends tone. And Rev. Mr. Woodthorn has come without his. He says he never brings it to the house weddings unless specially requested. He lives clear across the city, and the carriage has gone away."

"Oh, I have a surplus!" cried Amarilly enthusiastically. "I'll telephone our grocer. Milt's ahelpin' him to-night, and he can ride over here on the grocer's wheel and fetch it."

"Why, how in the world did you come by such a thing as a surplice?"

asked the widow in surprise.

Amarilly quickly explained, and then telephoned to her brother.

"He says he'll be over here in a jiffy," she announced. "And ain't it lucky, it's jest been did up clean!"

"My, but that's fortunate! It'll be the making of my wedding. I shall give you a dollar for the use of it, the same as those others did."

"No!" objected Amarilly. "Ill be more than glad to let you hev it arter your givin' me this fine dress."

"I'll have Mr. Jimmels pay you for it. He can take a dollar out of the fee for the minister. It will serve him right for not bringing all his trappings with him."

Amarilly's sense of justice was appeased by this arrangement. She went into the double parlors to witness the ceremony, which gave her a few little heart thrills.

"Them words sounds orful nice," she thought approvingly. "The Boarder and Lily Rose must hev an Episcopal fer to marry them. I wonder if I'll ever get to Miss King's and Mr. St. John's weddin' or Mr. Derry's; but I guess he'll never be married. He jokes too much to be thinkin' of sech things." Then came the thought of her own wedding garment awaiting its destiny.

"I ain't even hed a beau, yet," she sighed, "but the Boarder says that I will--that red-headed girls ain't never old maids from ch'ice."

With this sustaining thought, she proceeded to the dining-room. She had been taught at the Guild how to wait on table, and she proved herself to be very deft and capable in putting her instructions into effect.