Chapter 10

The next afternoon Amarilly called at the studio for the surplice.

"I am glad to see you have your hair fixed as I told you, Amarilly," was Derry's greeting. "And have you remembered the other things I told you?"

"I hev' writ out 'can' and 'ate' in big letters and pinned 'em up on the wall. I can say 'em right every time now."

"Of course you can! And for a reward here's a dollar with which to buy some black velvet hair-ribbons. Never put any color but black or brown near your hair, Amarilly."

"No, Mr. Derry; but I don't want to take the dollar."

"See here, Amarilly! You're to be my little housemaid, and the uniform is always provided. Instead of buying you a cap and apron, I prefer to furnish velvet hair-ribbons. Take it, and get a good quality silk velvet. And now, good-by for two months. I will let you know when I am home so that you may begin on your duties."

"Good-by, Mr. Derry," said the little girl artlessly. "And thar's something I'd like to say to you, if you don't mind."

"You may say anything--everything--to me, Amarilly."

"When you go to eat, won't you order jest as ef I was with you--nothin' more?"

His fair boyish face reddened slightly, and then a serious look came into his dancing eyes.

"By Jove, Amarilly! I've been wishing some girl who really meant it, who really cared, would say that to me. You put it very delicately and sweetly. I'll--yes, I'll do it all the time I'm gone. There's my hand on it. Good-by, Amarilly."

"Good-by, Mr. Derry."

Amarilly walked home very slowly, trying to think of a way to realize again from the surplice.

"I'm afeerd I won't find a place to rent it right away," she sighed.

Looking up, she saw the Boarder. A slender, shy slip of a girl had his arm, and he was gazing into her intent eyes with a look of adoration.

"Oh, the Boarder is in love!" gasped Amarilly; her responsive little heart leaping in sympathetic interest. "That's why he's wore a blue necktie the last few days. Lord Algernon said that was allers a sure sign."

She tactfully slipped around a corner, unseen by the entranced couple.

That night, as he was lighting his after-supper pipe, the Boarder remarked casually:

"I'd like to rent the surplus fer an hour to-morrer, Amarilly."

"Why, what on airth can you do with it?" was the astonished query.

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 assented 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 assured 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 pronounced a great success. Before the presentation he had it set in a frame made of gilt network studded with shells.

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 assent.

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

The bargain was finally closed, although it gave Amarilly more than a passing 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 space. 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 assist 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 flustered?" 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.

"Here's two dollars," the complacent bride said to Amarilly before departing. "One is for serving so nicely, and one is for the surplice. I told them in the kitchen to put you up a basket of things to take home to the children."

Amarilly thanked her profusely and then went home. She deposited her two dollars in the family exchequer, and proceeded to distribute the contents of the basket.

"Now, set around the table here, and take what I give you. Thar ain't enough of one thing to go hull way round, except fer ma. She's agoin' to hev some of each. Yes, you be, ma. This here baskit's mine. Here's a sandwich, some chicken, salid, jell, two kinds of cake, and some ice- cream fer you. Bud can hev first pick now, 'cause he ain't so strong as the rest of you. All right, Bud; take the rest of the ice-cream and some cake."

"'Tain't fair! I'm a girl, and I'm younger than Bud. I'd orter choose first," sobbed Cory.

"Shut up, Co! You'll wake Iry, and then he'll hev to hev something, and if he sleeps right through, thar'll be jest so much more fer you. 'Twon't hurt him to miss what he don't know about. All right, Cory, you can hev cake and jell. That's a good boy, Bud, to give her two tastes of the cream, and ma'll give you two more. Bobby? Sandwiches and pickle. Milt? Chicken and salid. Flammy and Gus, pickle and sandwich is all that's left fer you. The rest of this chicken is agoin' into the Boarder's dinner pail to-morrer."