Illustration: "All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little
hand."]
Nannie blushed to think how inconsiderate she had been to force her
old friend to allude, even indirectly, to her poverty, and she walked
up the dusty road to her own gate, filled with compunction. Just
outside the gate was a little wilderness of goldenrod and asters. She
thought what a pity it was they should get so gray with dust. Poor
things, they could not help it; they had to stay where chance had
planted them unless somebody picked them and carried them away, and
even then they left their roots behind them. Somehow they made her
think of Miss Becky, living her little narrow, stationary life all
alone in the old tumble-down farmhouse. And just at this point in her
reflections a delightful scheme came into her head.
Now, Nannie was the recipient of a slender monthly allowance intended
for gloves and ruchings, postage stamps, and the like, and, having
spent the last four months far from the allurements of city shops, she
happened at this juncture to be in funds. Her stock of gloves, to be
sure, was pretty well exhausted, and Christmas was only a few months
away. But Miss Becky was nearer still, and Nannie had no hesitation
between the two claims. As a natural consequence it happened that,
one pleasant day early in October, Miss Becky, in her best black
bonnet, found herself steaming up to Boston, about to do Nannie "a
real favour" by chaperoning her to the theatre. Miss Becky was so much
impressed by the gravity of her responsibility that she hardly took in
the fact that she was going to the theatre herself!
They were to see _The Shaughraun_--a play which her best friend had
assured Nannie was "just great"; and as the train rushed up to town
the young hostess was at a loss to decide whether she was happier on
her own account or on Miss Becky's. To be sure, she was just a little
disappointed about Miss Becky, who seemed curiously silent and stiff;
and when they came out of the station and walked up the crowded city
street, the old lady held her by the sleeve and looked bewildered and
frightened.
"How long is it since you've been in Boston?" Nannie asked, looking up
into the anxious old face framed in the black silk bonnet which
looked twice as old-fashioned as ever before.
"Not sence Sophia was married 'n' we came up to select her weddin'
gownd. I was quite a girl then, an' I guess I felt more at home in a
crowd than I do now. We
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