The Nicest Girl in the School Part 11

"No, I'd like to buy it now, and then I can have it to read on Christmas Day. Do come, Mother!"

The book department was upstairs, and proved as crowded as the floor below. After some difficulty they managed to find a place at the counter, and Muriel was soon occupied in turning over the pages of various fascinating stories, hesitating so long over her choice that the ten minutes soon lengthened out into a quarter of an hour.

"Do be quick, Muriel!" Patty ventured to whisper. "Aunt Lucy wants to go home, and I haven't bought one of my presents yet!"

"Oh, bother!" replied Muriel. "Do you think you'd have this historical tale, or this school story, if you were choosing?"

"The school one," said Patty, "though either looks nice. Here's the a.s.sistant. If you buy it now, perhaps Aunt Lucy would take me to the toy department for just five minutes."

"I can't make up my mind yet," said Muriel. "I'd rather look at a few others first. Hand me that one bound in green. Yes, and the red one too.

Oh, don't be a nuisance! Your Christmas presents will have to wait. I'm not going to decide in a hurry just to please you."

Poor Patty thought Muriel would never finish her purchase. She examined book after book, till at length even her mother waxed impatient, and declared she could stay no longer.

"It is twenty minutes past twelve now," she said, "and I have made an appointment at half-past to meet the superintendent of the Sunday School about the Scholars' Christmas Tree. I should not like to keep him waiting, and I am afraid I shall be late as it is. You must choose at once, dear, and come."

It took almost five minutes longer to secure the services of the a.s.sistant, who in the meantime had been attending to somebody else, and to wait while she wrapped the book in paper and fetched the change: so when at length Muriel was able to take her parcel, Mrs. Pearson was most anxious to start for home.

"I suppose there's no time for me to buy anything?" ventured Patty, timidly.

"Oh no, dear!" said her aunt. "We must hurry away at once; you should have mentioned it before. What did you want to get?"

"Some little presents for the children," said Patty. "I've brought my purse with me."

"I am sending them a parcel to-morrow," said Mrs. Pearson, "so that will do for you as well. You shall help me to pack it if you like. Dear me, it's nearly half-past twelve already! How very annoying! Jackson must drive home as quickly as he can. I shall have to apologize to Mr.

Saunders. He's always so punctual, I'm sure I shall find him in the breakfast-room when we arrive."

Patty entered the carriage in a very dejected frame of mind. It seemed so hard, when the money had been in her pocket all the morning, that she should have found no opportunity of spending it. She had wished so much to send Christmas boxes to the little ones, and though she knew her aunt's gifts would probably be much handsomer than any she could have afforded, she felt it was not at all the same as if they were her own.

"It's the first Christmas I've ever been away from home," she said to herself, "and I wanted everyone to have a remembrance from me. They'll be so disappointed, and think I've taken no trouble over them. I haven't even any cards to send them."

In spite of her efforts she could not get over her disappointment, and as she sat by the breakfast-room fire after lunch, the tears began to well up in her eyes at the thought of the delightful parcel which she had hoped by now to be packing up and despatching. Muriel, seated in the opposite armchair, was absorbed in her new story, and beyond occasionally asking Patty to poke the fire or put on more coals, took no notice of her cousin, and did not see that anything was wrong. Patty tried to fix her attention on "The Daisy Chain", which she had just begun to read, but the description of the large family made her think of her own, and she felt so wretchedly homesick and miserable that big drops blurred her eyes and fell down on to the pages of her book. She was wiping them up carefully with her pocket handkerchief when the door opened suddenly, and Cousin Horace made his appearance.

"h.e.l.lo!" he cried cheerily. "I thought I should find you two in here!

Muriel, Mother wants you for a minute in her bedroom."

"What for?"

"Your new dress has come, I believe."

Muriel jumped up with alacrity and went upstairs, and Horace, taking her vacant chair, stretched himself lazily, and put his feet on the fender.

"I don't know what it is about holidays," he remarked; "they make a fellow want to do nothing but lounge. Don't you feel the same, Patty?"

"I'm not sure," said Patty, so very chokily that Horace sat up and examined her with critical eyes.

"Why, what's the matter?" he exclaimed.

"Nothing," said Patty, "at least, not much."

"But you're crying."

It was such a self-evident statement that Patty did not reply.

"Have you been quarrelling with Muriel?"

"No. Oh no!"

"Then what is it?"

"It seems hardly worth while telling."

"Of course it is. Look here, Patty, you and I are chums. If you've anything on your mind, just reel it off and get rid of it. Perhaps I can help."

"It's only about the children," began Patty.

"Well! Go on! What about them?"

"I meant to buy them some presents, and there was no time when we were shopping this morning, and Aunt Lucy isn't going into town again before Christmas, so I can't get them at all now," said Patty, blurting out her trouble as briefly as she could.

"Is that all?" asked Horace.

"It's quite enough for me," replied Patty, wiping her eyes again.

"Why, my dear girl, that's easily remedied. Put on your hat and jacket and I'll take you to town in the tramcar. It's only half-past three, and we'll soon buy what you want."

"Oh! Would Aunt Lucy really let us?" cried Patty, brightening up at such a delightful prospect.

"Why not? We'll go and ask her. Stuff that handkerchief in your pocket, and come along now."

Horace knew exactly the right way to wheedle his mother, and very soon persuaded her to allow them to start on their expedition.

"Patty must put on her fur," said Mrs. Pearson. "It is much too cold and foggy for Muriel to go out. I heard her coughing last night."

"I don't want to go, thanks," said Muriel, who looked a little annoyed.

"Horace can please himself. I thought he said he was going to develop my films."

"I'll do that another day. Be quick, Patty, or you'll find everything bought up before you get there! I expect the shops will be crammed as full of people as they'll hold."

It was in very different spirits indeed that Patty b.u.t.toned her boots, and, donning her outdoor garments, joined Horace, who was waiting for her in the hall. It was freezing keenly, and the ground crunched crisply under their feet as they walked down the drive. They were obliged to wait nearly ten minutes for the tramcar, and it was bitterly cold standing at the corner of the road, but Patty did not mind in the least when she thought of her errand. It was almost dark before they reached the town, and the streets looked bright and cheerful, with their many gas lamps and electric lights s.h.i.+ning out through the murky atmosphere. Everyone appeared to be busy with Christmas shopping, and the pavements were crowded with people gazing at the presents displayed in the windows: and almost all seemed to be carrying a number of parcels. There was such a happy, cheery feeling in the air, in spite of the fog, that Patty felt inclined to smile at everybody she met, even the conductor who came to collect their fares, or the stout woman who sat next to her, and whose large basket was such an inconvenience. She was beaming with joy as she and Horace left the car at the terminus and walked down the main street, looking at the gay shop windows as they went.

"I hope you've made a list of your presents," said Horace, "and then we shan't waste time. I think the best plan is to go to a shop, ask for what you want, and insist upon having it. Don't let them show you half-a-dozen other things, and try to persuade you they're quite as good."

"I haven't made a list," said Patty, "but I want to buy eight presents, and only spend three s.h.i.+llings. It allows just fourpence-halfpenny for each, or if I could spend a little less on some of the children's, I might afford rather more for Father's."

"Whew!" exclaimed Horace. "It requires rather careful calculation.

You'll have to be uncommonly economical, I'm afraid. What can you possibly buy for fourpence-halfpenny that's worth having?"