"Portia, I suppose you mean?"

"Yes, Portia. Mr. Greenaway let me have the cot because I once bought a little blue chair from him, for Selina's baby, for which I paid _cash down_."

It is impossible to describe the triumphant manner in which she uttered "cash down," it was as if she had said, _I_ paid the national debt.

"Now," she proceeded, "I'll tell you why I bought it--I was one day pa.s.sing a weaver's house in Revel Lane, when I saw a young woman crying bitterly but silently at the bottom of one of the long entries or pa.s.sages. 'I fear you are in trouble' I said. 'Is any one ill?'

"She shook her head. She couldn't speak for a moment, then whispered:

"'Daisie's cot has followed the loom!'

"I asked her what following the loom meant.

"'O young lady,' she replied, 'the weaver's trade has been mortle bad lately, and last week I sold Daisie's cot for the rent--and when the broker took it up I thought my heart would break; but hearts don't break, missie, they just go on achin'.'

"Daisie was her only child, and the cot was a carved one, an heirloom in which several generations of the family had slept!

"I had only a florin in my purse, but I gave her that, took her name and address and walked on.

"But the woman haunted me. All the rest of the day I seemed to see her weeping in the long, grey street, and to hear _her_ sobbing above the sound of the music in the music-room, and when I woke up in the middle of the night, I thought I would go to Mr. Greenaway the next day, and ask him to let me have a cot, and I'd pay him out of my next quarter's pocket-money. The very next day he sent the crib--'From an unknown friend.' That's all, Gloria! Now, what shall I do?"

"Go and tell Miss Melford all about it," said I. "Come, _now_."

Maura shrank from the ordeal, but in the end I persuaded her to accompany me to the cedar parlour, where the Lady Princ.i.p.al was writing.

A wood fire burned cheerily on the white marble hearth, and the winter sunlight fell brightly on the flower-stand full of flowers--amidst which the piping bullfinch, Puffball, hopped about.

Miss Melford, with her satin-brown hair, and golden-brown silk dress, was a pleasant figure to look upon as she put down her pen, and said sweetly:

"Well, girls, what is it?"

Maura drew back and was silent, but I was spokeswoman for her; and when I concluded my story there was silence for a few moments.

Then Miss Melford rose, and putting an arm round Maura's shoulders, gravely, but at the same time tenderly, in her own sweet way, pointed out the moral of the situation, and then added:

"You shall accompany me to see the people who have generously (if unwisely) allowed you to have the goods, and I will explain matters, and request them to wait."

Maura was a quiet, subdued girl for a time after this, but a few days later she knocked timidly at Miss Melford's door. Miss Melford was alone, and bade her enter. Once in the room Maura hesitated, and then said:

"Please, Miss Melford, may I ask a favour?"

"Certainly, my dear! What is it?"

"If I can find any right and honourable way of earning the money to pay the bills with, may I do so?"

"a.s.suredly," said Miss Melford, "if you will submit your plan to my approval; but, Maura, I am afraid you will find it is harder to earn money than you think."

"Oh yes, I know money is hard to get, and very, very easy to spend. What a queer world it is!" was Maura's comment, as she left the room.

II.

THE BAL MASQUe.

There was to be a Children's Fancy Dress Ball--a Bal Masque, to which all Miss Melford's senior pupils were going, and little else was talked of weeks before the great event was due!

Margot was to go as Evangeline, and I was to be Priscilla the Puritan Maiden, but none of us knew in what character Maura Merle was to appear.

It was kept secret.

Knowing the state of her finances, both Miss Melford and the girls offered to provide her costume, but she gratefully and firmly rejected both proposals, saying that she had made arrangements for a dress, and that it would be a surprise.

And indeed it was, for when we all a.s.sembled in the white drawing-room, in readiness for our escort to the Town Hall, Maura was what newspapers style "the cynosure of all eyes."

She wore a frock of pale blue silk! and all over it in golden letters were the words: "Sweets from Fairyland."

Her waving golden hair was adorned by a small, white satin, Trigon hat, ornamented with a blue band, on which were the words: "Fairy Queen."

From her waist depended an elaborate bonbonniere, her sash was dotted all over with imitation confections of various kinds, her blue satin shoes had rosettes of tiny bonbons, and her domino suggested chocolate cream.

There were of course loud exclamations of--"What does this mean, Maura?"

"Why, you are Fairy Queen, like the Fairyland Confectioner's Company's advertis.e.m.e.nts!" but all Maura said was:

"Girls, Miss Melford knows all about it, and approves."

At this juncture, Miss Melford's voice was heard saying: "Follow me, my dears," and we all filed out of the room, and down the stairs to the carriages in waiting. The Town Hall was beautifully decorated, and the costumes were delightful. There were cavaliers, sweeps, princesses, and beggar-maids, but no one attracted more notice than Fairy Queen, who instead of dancing glided about amongst the company, offering fondants and caramels from her big bonbonniere.

The young guests laughed as they ate the sweetmeats, and rallied her upon the character she had chosen.

"Why have you left Fairyland?" asked a musketeer, and Fairy Queen replied:

"Because I want you all to have fairy fare."

"Won't you dance, Fairy Queen?" asked Bonnie Prince Charlie, persuasively, but Fairy Queen curtsied, and answered:

"I pray you excuse me, I'm on duty for the Company in Wayverne Square."

I guessed that there was something behind all this, and the sequel proved my conjecture true.

For when the Bal Masque was a golden memory, Maura came to me with a little bundle of receipted bills in her hand, saying:

"Look, Gloria, "Fairy Queen" paid _these_. I was with Ivy in a confectioner's one day when the mistress told us that a member of the newly started firm of sweetmeat manufacturers, who traded as the Fairyland Company, had said that he wished _he_ had a daughter who could go to the ball as Fairy Queen, and exploit his goods.

"I thought to myself: 'Well, Maura Merle could do it,' and I went to the Company and offered to undertake the duty, subject, of course, to Miss Melford's permission.

"They said they would give me a handsome sum, and provide the dress, and I wrote to Uncle Felix, and begged him to let me have his sanction.