CHAPTER XII

That Delightful Toy-shop

"OH dear, I'm so happy. Oh, I'm so happy. I don't know what to do, I'm so happy!" exclaimed Hecla, dancing about the room after breakfast. "Elisabeth, I'm so dreadfully happy!"

"Well, don't you go and be naughty, 'cause you're happy," suggested Elisabeth, as she cleared away the breakfast things. She had had to see after the child's solitary meals all this past week.

"I don't mean to be naughty; truly and really I don't. I'll try to be ever so good. Oh!" And Hecla, catching sight of the Vicar's tall figure as he strode up the garden path, flew out to the front door. "Uncle John, I'm so happy, I don't know what to do."

"That is good news, little one,"—as he stooped to kiss her.

"Ivy's coming home this afternoon, and Auntie Millicent is going to be down to tea, and we shall all be as glad as glad can be. And I'm going to take such lots of care of dear, sweet, darling little Ivy."

The Vicar stroked her head.

"And I'm going out with Elisabeth this morning, presently, and Auntie Millicent says I may go to the toy-shop. Isn't that lovely? I'm going to get a present for Ivy, all by myself. Won't that be delicious, Uncle John?"

"Very delicious, I should think. How much money have you?"

"I've got just exactly ninepence three-farthings. I wish it was a lot more. I do love Ivy."

The Vicar pulled out his purse.

"I think we'll make it a trifle more, and then you can get something bigger. There is a farthing first, and now you have tenpence. And here are two pennies, which will make a shilling. And two threepenny bits, so you have one and sixpence. And here is a sixpence, so now you have two shillings. And here is a shilling, so now you have three shillings."

"Oh, Uncle John, how beautiful! Oh, thank you! But I did mean it to be all my very own present."

"I'm giving the money to you, and you shall give it to her. Won't that do?"

"Yes—I think it will," meditated Hecla. "But I'll tell her it wasn't all properly my very own, because she might think it was, you know."

"Do as you like, little one. You can't be too honest. Only choose something that Ivy will like. She's not very well yet, and you have to be gentle with her."

Hecla nodded. "I know! Auntie Millicent told me."

An hour later, she and Elisabeth started for the toy-shop. There was only one big toy-shop in the town, and to this they bent their steps, Elisabeth as usual walking staidly, and Hecla dancing and frisking like a little colt.

"I wonder what I shall choose. I do wonder what I shall choose," she kept saying. "What do you think Ivy would like, Elisabeth? Don't you think a box of soldiers in lovely red coats would be best?"

"If it was for a boy, Miss Hecla; but Miss Ivy ain't a boy. You'd a deal better get her a doll."

"Well, I can—of course—only she's got dolls, and she hasn't got soldiers. I think boys' toys are much the nicest. Wouldn't she like a tin train?"

"If I was you, I'd choose a doll, or else a nice box of toys. You might get a box of bricks, Miss Hecla; or else a sort of farmyard; or a map of them squares, with pictures on their sides, that's got to be put together."

"But I want a lot of things; not only one thing. That's so stupid. I want it to be a real s'prise packet. Don't you know? I mean to get a ninepence-three-farthings toy, and two penny toys, and two threepenny toys, and one thing for sixpence, and one thing for a shilling. And there's an extra farthing that's got to come in somewhere. And I'm going to tie them all up in parcels, and then I shall put them into my dear red and white basket, and heaps of moss with them—we've got to get the moss, Elisabeth. And then I shall give it all to her, and the basket too. Won't she be pleased? I know where to get the moss."

"You'll have to make haste, or there won't be time."

"Of course I shall make haste."

But when she found herself in the shop, it was no such easy matter. Making haste seemed impossible. Such a wealth of delightful things lay all around; and the nice shopwoman took so much trouble, bringing boxes and games and dolls from top shelves and out of the back room, that Hecla was bewildered. She stood with glowing eyes, alike fascinated and puzzled, giving a skip of approval at each new production, but quite unable to choose.

There were exquisite dolls, and splendid carts, and lovely horses, and magnificent trains, and a mail-cart which could be wound up to go, and a mouse that would run, and games without end, and boxes of treasures past description. But most of these were beyond her means. She had a great leaning towards boys' toys, for she liked whatever she knew that Chris would approve. Yet Elisabeth's objections had weight; and Elisabeth held to it that nothing could be more appropriate than a doll.

"If I was you, Miss Hecla, I'd get one of them nice china dolls, and a chair and table for the doll to use," she said. "Miss Ivy loves dolls, and she hasn't got a china one."

"Is it for little Miss Ivy?" asked the woman. "Poor little dear! I hope she ain't any the worse for her fall in the river."

"She's ever so much better," put in Hecla. "And she is coming home to-day, and I want to get her a lot of toys to amuse her. And I've got ninepence three-farthings of my own, and I want to get something with that all by itself, so that it would be just quite from me, you know. And Uncle John gave me a farthing and twopence and two threepennies, and a sixpence and a shilling to spend too."

The woman seemed fully to understand, and also to be much interested. She brought forward a number of fresh toys, costing exactly what Hecla wanted to give. Whether their prices really were so low as she named might be doubted. Elisabeth did doubt it, but she said nothing, and Hecla jumped with delight.

After a great deal of discussing and selecting and rejecting and counting up of pennies and farthings, the money was at last all spent; and the woman placed Hecla's purchases in a row, that she might see how nice they looked. They cost precisely three shillings, not one farthing more or less.

There was a china doll, very dainty and neat, and prettily dressed for one shilling.

There was a horse for the doll to ride, which cost sixpence—at least, that was all Hecla paid for it. And the doll really could sit sideways on the horse, though rather overpoweringly big for the size of the steed.

A chair for the doll to sit on and a table for it to use came next; and the price of these together oddly came to ninepence three-farthings. It was funny, Hecla thought, but most convenient.

"So that will be truly my very own present," she said.

There was also a minute box of dolls' tea-things, for which the woman charged threepence farthing, and a tray for the tea-things costing threepence.

A penny looking-glass and a penny hairbrush for the doll completed the array.

Hecla was crimson with excitement. She thought it was the most perfectly lovely assortment of toys that she had ever seen in her life. Nothing could have been better—except a train and some red-coated soldiers; but no doubt Ivy, being so little, would prefer these.

"I'd better send them round," the woman suggested.

Hecla would not hear of such an arrangement. She could not bear to part with her treasures. "Please tie them up, and please do put a lot of paper and string," she begged. "Because I'm going to do them up all separately, and I haven't got any paper or string."

"There's plenty at home, Miss Hecla," said Elisabeth.

But the woman insisted on tying them all up herself, just as Hecla wished; and she seemed quite to enjoy the work. She put up each toy separately in soft brown paper, and fastened each with pretty red and white string; and then she enclosed all the small packets in one large sheet of stout brown paper.

"You'd best let me carry it, Miss Hecla," said Elisabeth. "If you tumble down, you'll break something or other."

This was so likely an event that Hecla consented, and they started anew.

"It's near half-past twelve," Elisabeth said.

"Mayn't we go round behind the house? There's lots of moss on the bank," begged Hecla.

As there was just time, Elisabeth consented. Quantities of soft dry moss could be found there; and Hecla carried home an armful.

Then came dinner; her last solitary meal. Elisabeth remained as usual in the room, helping her, and looking after her wants.

When Elisabeth went off to her own dinner, Hecla untied the big parcel, and arranged all the smaller packets in her pretty basket, which she had had for years, and was really fond of. She tucked moss in between the packets, and covered the whole with a layer of the same, to look nice and mysterious.

And then she had to wait as best she could for the arrival of Aunt Anne and little Ivy.

At half-past three Miss Anne came, and with her the doctor, carrying Ivy himself in his arms, warmly wrapped up, for it was a windy day, and they were still afraid of any chill for the child, as well as of any fatigue or excitement.

She had lost her bright colour and looked much thinner; but when she saw Hecla she held out both her little arms, and a great hug between the children followed. Miss Anne looked on with tears in her eyes. She had seen Hecla many times in the course of the week herself.

"Now we are going to put Ivy into this cosy armchair," Miss Anne said, when Miss Storey, who was just down for the first time, had kissed the little one, thanking God in her heart, as she did so, that the darling had been given back to them all.

"And when may I bring my presents, auntie?" whispered Hecla.

"Suppose we wait till after tea," whispered Miss Anne. "We will all have tea together here to-day."

That was grand indeed; for generally Hecla and Ivy had theirs in the dining-room with Elisabeth. Yet, much as she enjoyed the rare event, she hardly knew how to wait till it was over.

Then she was allowed to bring her basket full of treasures, and give it to Ivy. And Ivy's little white face grew pink with pleasure.

"It's my present to you, darling," eagerly explained Hecla. "Only, part of it's from Uncle John too. He gave me a lot of money to spend for you, and he gave it to me, and I'm giving it to you. And there's two things that are really, really and truly my very ownest present to you, got with my own ninepence three-farthings, you darling little pet."

[Illustration: "I'M GIVING IT TO YOU, AND THERE'S TWO THINGS THAT ARE REALLY MY VERY OWNEST PRESENT TO YOU."]

It was a pretty sight to see them together, Ivy, with her cheeks pink and her brown eyes wide open, slowly making her way into packet after packet, and Hecla, kneeling by her side, in a state of rapturous delight.

Miss Storey and Miss Anne exchanged looks of pleasure, both of them smiling; and yet tears with both were not far off, as they thought of the little one's past danger, and her merciful preservation and recovery.

Happily, in a few days, little Ivy was herself again; and in a few weeks, she became as strong as ever, with no ill results from the accident.

Miss Storey was fairly well again, but not so strong as she had been, for at the best she was never strong. She had acted so bravely at the time, that it had been a great strain upon her; and it seemed to have left a weakness behind. She could not bear any sudden noise, and everything seemed to startle and frighten her; and she could stand very little fatigue.

Miss Anne had to keep the children as much as possible away from her. That made Miss Anne very busy, as you may imagine; the more so because Miss Storey now wanted more looking after, and depended more upon her companionship than before the accident.

Sometimes Miss Anne wondered whether it would be possible to go on very much longer like this. But she said nothing, only did her best day after day, and waited to see what might be the right plan in the end.

And Hecla was really trying to be good, trying to do what was right. That week had left its marks on her life. She knew her faults, and fought to conquer them. Often she forgot, and often she failed; but on the whole there was a steady improvement.

She and little Ivy did everything together, and were like sisters. And towards Ivy, it seemed that Hecla's carelessness was quite cured. She was so careful of the little one, so tender towards her, so full of thought for her comfort and safety, that the aunts often said thankfully one to the other, "Really, having Ivy here will be the making of our dear Hecla!"