Everybody is so kind to me. Besides"--Sylvia lowered
her voice so that nobody but the Old Lady could hear it--"I have
a fairy godmother here who does the most beautiful and wonderful
things for me."
Sylvia, being a girl of fine instincts, did not look at Old Lady Lloyd as
she said this. But she would not have seen anything if she had looked.
The Old Lady was not a Lloyd for nothing.
"How very interesting," she said, indifferently.
"Isn't it? I am so grateful to her and I have wished
so much she might know how much pleasure she has given me.
I have found lovely flowers and delicious berries on my
path all summer; I feel sure she sent me my party dress.
But the dearest gift came last week on my birthday--a little volume
of my father's poems. I can't express what I felt on receiving them.
But I longed to meet my fairy godmother and thank her."
"Quite a fascinating mystery, isn't it? Have you really no idea
who she is?"
The Old Lady asked this dangerous question with marked success.
She would not have been so successful if she had not been
so sure that Sylvia had no idea of the old romance between her
and Leslie Gray. As it was, she had a comfortable conviction
that she herself was the very last person Sylvia would be
likely to suspect.
Pages:
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74