CHAPTER XIV

A BIRTHDAY PRESENT

On one of Mr. Casey’s flying trips to the city it happened to be Mrs. Hollister’s birthday.  Nora told him of the fact and after school together they whisked away in a taxi to shop.  Upon their return he presented Mrs. Hollister with a large box, and in the most delicate manner begged her to accept it as a slight token of his gratitude for her interest in and kindness to Nora.

“Ye’ve been a mother to my girl and she loves ye well.  Her own mother—­God rest her soul—­as I’ve often told ye, would be proud of her, and she’d know better what to give a lady, but if ye’ll accept these, ma’am, Nora and I will be pleased.”

Mrs. Hollister was visibly affected.  She actually wiped her eyes.

“I will accept them with pleasure, Mr. Casey,” she said, “but don’t forget Nora is a great comfort to all of us.  We have grown to love her as our own,” and she opened the box thinking it might contain a pretty waist or something of that sort when to her surprise there she beheld a most magnificent set of sables.  She couldn’t speak.  The poor woman had never dared to dream of owning such a thing.  Her heart stood still and she turned and took Nora in her arms, kissing her fondly.  Then she shook Mr. Casey’s hand as though she would never stop.

“Mr. Casey, you are too generous.  I have always loved sables, but I never expected to own a set.  I don’t know how to thank you for your kindness.”

“Say nothing about it,” replied the man.  “Nora and I consider it a privilege if ye’ll wear our gifts, don’t we, Nora?”

“Indeed we do,” replied the girl.  “There are so many things that you do for me, Mrs. Hollister, that money can not compensate.”

Ethel was now eighteen.  One evening Harvey Bigelow invited her to the theatre.  On their way home he asked her if she ever could care for him enough to become his wife.

“Oh, Harvey!” gasped Ethel, “I am so sorry.  Why did you spoil our lovely friendship?  I’ll have to answer ‘no,’ and I dislike to hurt your feelings.”

“That’s all right, little girl,” said Harvey, swallowing hard.  “I was an ass to even imagine that you could care for me, but you see I’m coming on so well that I shall soon put out my sign, and I felt that you might be such a help to me; that is, if you could care for me a little bit.”

“And there are so many nice girls,” she said, “waiting for just such a good man as yourself.”

“But, Ethel, I don’t want any girl.  I want one.  If I can’t have her I guess I’ll stay single.  Anyway, I suppose a man needs to practice a lot before he marries.  There’s a couple of years in the Hospital.  But I’m glad I know the truth, Ethel.  By Jove! it’s off my chest.  I’ve tried to speak of it before but I couldn’t.”

“I wish I could say ‘yes,’ Harvey; but can’t we still remain the good pals that we are?”