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Page 35
"Oh, Malcom! who was it that _must_ wait a few minutes longer, the other
morning, in Santa Maria Novella in order to run downstairs and give one
more look at Giotto's frescoes?" laughed Bettina.
* * * * *
Barbara's and Bettina's eighteenth birthday was drawing near. Mrs.
Douglas had for a long time planned to give a party to them, and had
fully arranged the details before she spoke of it to the girls.
"It shall be your 'coming-out party' here in Florence," she said; "not a
large party, but a thoroughly pleasant and enjoyable one, I am sure."
And the circle of friends who were eager to know and to add to the
pleasure of any one belonging to Robert Sumner seemed to ensure this.
Mrs. Douglas further said that she did not wish them to give a thought
to what they would wear on the occasion, but to leave everything with
her. Every girl of eighteen years will readily understand what a flutter
of joyous excitement Barbara and Bettina felt, and how they talked over
the coming event, when they were alone. Finally Bettina asked:--
"Why does Mrs. Douglas do so much for us? How can we ever repay her?"
"We can never repay her, Betty," replied her sister. "Nor does she wish
it. I do not know why she is so kind. She must love us, or,--perhaps it
is because she is so fond of papa. Do you know, Betty, that our father
once saved her life? She told me about it only yesterday, and I did not
think to tell you last night, there was so much to talk about. It was
when she was a little girl of twelve or thirteen years and papa was just
beginning to practise. You know her father was very wealthy, and had
helped him to get his profession because the two families were always so
intimate. Well, Mrs. Douglas was so ill that three or four doctors said
they could do nothing more for her, and she must die. Of course her
father and mother were broken-hearted. And papa went to them, and for
days and nights did not sleep and hardly ate, but was with her every
moment; and the older doctors acknowledged that but for him she could
never have lived.--And, just think! he never said a word about it to
us!"
"Our father never talks of the good and noble things he does," said
Bettina, proudly. "No wonder she loves him; but I do really think she
loves us too. Only the other day Malcom said he should be jealous were
it anybody but you and me. So I think all we can do is to keep on doing
just as we have done, and love her more dearly than ever."
"I wonder if there are any other girls in the world so happy as we
are," she added after a moment's silence--and the two pairs of brown
eyes looked into each other volumes of tender sympathy and gladness.
What a day was that birthday! Barbara and Bettina will surely tell of it
to their children and grandchildren! First of all came letters from the
dear home--birthday letters which Mrs. Douglas had withheld for a day or
two so that they should be read at the fitting time. Then the lovely
gifts! From Margery, an exquisite bit of sculptured marble for each,
chosen after much consultation with her uncle and many visits to Via dei
Fossi; from Malcom, copies of two of Fra Angelico's musical Angels, each
in a rich frame of Florentine hand-carving (for everything must be
purely Florentine, all had agreed); from Mr. Sumner, portfolios of the
finest possible photographs of the best works of Florentine masters from
the very beginning down through the High Renaissance.
Mrs. Douglas gave them most lovely outfits for the party--gowns of white
chiffon daintily embroidered--slippers, gloves--everything needful;
while Howard had asked that he might provide all the flowers.
When finally Barbara and Bettina stood on either side of Mrs. Douglas in
the floral bower where they received their guests, it was indeed as if
they were in fairy-land. It did not seem possible that any more pink or
white roses could be left in Florence, if indeed all Italy had not been
laid under tribute,--so lavish had Howard been. Barbara carried white
roses, and Bettina pink ones, and everywhere through the entire house
were the exquisite things, peeping out from amidst the daintiest greens
possible, or superb in the simplicity of their own magnificence.
The lovely American girls were the cynosure of all eyes, and the
flattering things said to them by foreigners and Americans were almost
enough to turn their heads. Mrs. Douglas was delighted with the simple
frankness and dignity with which they met all.
"You may trust well-bred American girls anywhere," she said to her
brother as she met him later in the evening, after all her guests had
been welcomed, "especially such as are ours," and she called his
attention to Barbara, who at that moment was approaching on the arm of a
distinguished-looking man, who was evidently absorbed with his fair
companion.
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