The Collected Works of Susan Coolidge: 7 Novels, 35+ Short Stories, Essays & Poems (Illustrated). Susan CoolidgeЧитать онлайн книгу.
forgive you,” she whispered, giving Clover’s arm a little pinch.
“What for?”
“For being in the right. About Lilly, I mean. I was rather hateful to her, I confess. Never mind. When she comes downstairs, I’ll make up. She’s a crocodile, if ever there was one; but, as she’s your cousin, I’ll be good to her. Kiss me quick to prove that you’re not vexed.”
“Vexed indeed!” said Clover, kissing the middle of the pink cheek. “I wonder if anybody ever stayed vexed with you for ten minutes together, You Rosy-Posy you?”
“Bless you, yes! Miss Jane, for example. She hates me like poison, and all the time. Well, what of it? I know she’s sick, but I ‘can’t tell a lie, pa,’ on that account. Where’s Katy?”
“Gone in to see her, I believe.”
“One of these days,” prophesied Rose, solemnly, “she’ll go into that room, and she’ll never come out again! Miss Jane is getting back into biting condition. I advise Katy to be careful. What’s that noise? Sleigh-bells, I declare! Girls,”—mounting a desk, and peeping out of the window,—“somebody’s got a big box,—a big one! Here’s old Joyce at the door, with his sledge. Now who do you suppose it is?”
“It’s for me. I’m sure it’s for me,” cried half a dozen voices.
“Bella, my love, peep over the balusters, and see if you can’t see the name,” cried Louisa; and Bella, nothing loath, departed at once on this congenial errand.
“No, I can’t,” she reported, coming back from the hall. “The name’s tipped up against the wall. There’s two boxes! One is big, and one is little!”
“Oh, who can they be for?” clamored the girls. Half the school expected boxes, and had been watching the storm all day, with a dreadful fear that it would block the roads, and delay the expected treasures.
At this moment Mrs. Nipson came in.
“There will be the usual study-hour this evening,” she announced. “All of you will prepare lessons for Monday morning. Miss Carr, come her for a moment, if you please.”
Clover, wondering, followed her into the entry.
“A parcel has arrived for you, and a box,” said Mrs. Nipson. “I presume that they contain articles for Christmas. I will have the nails removed, and both of them placed in you room this evening, but I expect you to refrain from examining them until to-morrow. The vacation does not open until after study-hour to-night, and it will then be too late for you to begin.”
“Very well, ma’am,” said Clover, demurely. But the minute Mrs. Nipson’s back was turned, she gave a jump, and rushed into the school-room.
“O girls,” she cried, “what do you think? Both the boxes are for
Katy and me!”
“Both!” cried a disappointed chorus.
“Yes, both. Nipson said so. I’m so sorry for you. But isn’t it nice for us? We’ve never had a box from home before, you know; and I didn’t think we should, it’s so far off. It’s too lovely! But I do hope yours will come to-night.”
Clover’s voice was so sympathizing, for all its glee, that nobody could help being glad with her.
“You little darling!” said Louisa, giving her a hug. “I’m rejoiced that the box is yours. The rest of us are always getting them, and you and Katy never had a thing before. I hope it’s a nice one!”
Study-hour seemed unusually long that night. The minute it was over, the sisters ran to No. 2. There stood the boxes, a big wooden one, with all the nails taken out of the lid, and a small paper one, carefully tied up and sealed. It was almost more than the girls could do to obey orders and not peep.
“I feel something hard,” announced Clover, inserting a finger-top under the lid.
“Oh, do you?” cried Katy. Then, making an heroic effort, she jumped into the bed.
“It’s the only way,” she said, “you’d better come too, Clovy. Blow the candle out and let’s get to sleep as fast as we can, so as to make morning come quicker.”
Katy dreamed of home that night. Perhaps it was that which made her wake so early. It was not five o’clock, and the room was perfectly dark. She did not like to disturb Clover, so she lay perfectly still, for hours as it seemed, till a faint gray dawn crept in, and revealed the outlines of the big box standing by the window. Then she could wait no longer, but crept out of bed, crossed the floor on tip-toe, and raising the lid a little put in her hand. Something crumby and sugary met it, and when she drew it out, there, fitting on her finger like a ring, was a round cake with a hole in the middle of it.
“Oh! it’s one of Debby’s jumbles!” she exclaimed.
“Where? What are you doing? Give me one too!” cried Clover, starting up. Katy rummaged till she found another, then, half frozen, she ran back to bed; and the two lay nibbling the jumbles, and talking about home, till dawn deepened into daylight, and morning was fairly come.
Breakfast was half an hour later than usual, which was comfortable. As soon as it was over, the girls proceeded to unpack their box. The day was so cold that they wrapped themselves in shawls, and Clover put on a hood and thick gloves. Rose Red, passing the door, burst out laughing, and recommended that she should add india rubbers and an umbrella.
“Come in,” cried the sisters,—“come in, and help us open our box.”
“Oh, by the way, you have a box, haven’t you?” said Rose, who was perfectly aware of the important fact, and had presented herself with the hope of being asked to look on. “Thank you, but perhaps I would better come some other time. I shall be in your way.”
“You humbug!” said Clover, while Katy seized Rose and pulled her into the room. “There, sit on the bed, you ridiculous goose, and put on my gray cloak. How can you be so absurd as to say you won’t? You know we want you, and you know you came on purpose!”
“Did I? Well, perhaps I did,” laughed Rose. Then Katy lifted off the lid and set it against the door. It was an exciting moment.
“Just look here!” cried Katy.
The top of the box was mostly taken up with four square paper boxes, round which parcels of all shapes and sized were wedged and fitted. The whole was a miracle of packing. It had taken Miss Finch three mornings, with assistance from old Mary, and much advice from Elsie, to do it so beautifully.
Each box held a different kind of cake. One was of jumbles, another of ginger-snaps, a third of crullers, and the fourth contained a big square loaf of frosted plum-cake, with a circle of sugar almonds set in the frosting. How the trio exclaimed at this!
“I never imagined any thing so nice,” declared Rose, with her mouth full of jumble. “As for those snaps, they’re simply perfect. What can be in all those fascinating bundles? Do hurry and open one, Katy.”
Dear little Elsie! The first two bundles opened were hers, a white hood for Katy, and a blue one for Clover, both of her own knitting, and so nicely done. The girls were enchanted.
“How she has improved!” said Katy. “She knits better than either of us, Clover.”
“There never was such a clever little darling!” responded Clover, and they patted the hoods, tried them on before the glass, and spent so much time in admiring them that Rose grew impatient.
“I declare,” she cried, “it isn’t any of my funeral, I know; but if you don’t open another parcel soon, I shall certainly fall to myself. It seems as if, what with cold and curiosity, I couldn’t wait.”
“Very well,” said Katy, laying aside her hood, with one final glance.
“Take out a bundle, Clover. It’s your turn.”
Clover’s