“From my mother!” Wide-eyed, Elnora looked at the Bird Woman.  “I never in my life saw the like.  Mother does things I think I never can forgive, and when I feel hardest, she turns around and does something that makes me think she just must love me a little bit, after all.  Any of the girls would give almost anything to graduate in hand-embroidered linen like that.  Money can’t buy such things.  And they came when I was thinking she didn’t care what became of me.  Do you suppose she can be insane?”

“Yes,” said the Bird Woman.  “Wildly insane, if she does not love you and care what becomes of you.”

Elnora arose and held the petticoat to her.  “Will you look at it?” she cried.  “Only imagine her not getting my dress ready, and then sending me such a petticoat as this!  Ellen would pay fifty dollars for it and never blink.  I suppose mother has had it all my life, and I never saw it before.”

“Go take your bath and put on those things,” said the Bird Woman.  “Forget everything and be happy.  She is not insane.  She is embittered.  She did not understand how things would be.  When she saw, she came at once to provide you a dress.  This is her way of saying she is sorry she did not get the other.  You notice she has not spent any money, so perhaps she is quite honest in saying she has none.”

“Oh, she is honest!” said Elnora.  “She wouldn’t care enough to tell an untruth.  She’d say just how things were, no matter what happened.”

Soon Elnora was ready for her dress.  She never had looked so well as when she again headed the processional across the flower and palm decked stage of the high school auditorium.  As she sat there she could have reached over and dropped a rose she carried into the seat she had occupied that September morning when she entered the high school.  She spoke the few words she had to say in behalf of the class beautifully, had the tiny wink ready for Billy, and the smile and nod of recognition for Wesley and Margaret.  When at last she looked into the eyes of a white-faced woman next them, she slipped a hand to her side and raised her skirt the fraction of an inch, just enough to let the embroidered edge of a petticoat show a trifle.  When she saw the look of relief which flooded her mother’s face, Elnora knew that forgiveness was in her heart, and that she would go home in the morning.

It was late afternoon before she arrived, and a dray followed with a load of packages.  Mrs. Comstock was overwhelmed.  She sat half dazed and made Elnora show her each costly and beautiful or simple and useful gift, tell her carefully what it was and from where it came.  She studied the faces of Elnora’s particular friends.  The gifts from them had to be set in a group.  Several times she started to speak and then stopped.  At last, between her dry lips, came a harsh whisper.

“Elnora, what did you give back for these things?”

“I’ll show you,” said Elnora cheerfully.  “I made the same gifts for the Bird Woman, Aunt Margaret and you if you care for it.  But I have to run upstairs to get it.”