Aunt Crete woke up at last from an uncomfortable dream. She thought Carrie and Luella had come back, and were about to snatch Donald away from her and bear him off to the shore.

She arose in haste and smoothed her hair, astonished at the freshness of her own face in the glass. She was afraid she had overslept and lost some of the precious time with Donald. There was so much to ask him, and he was so good to look at. She hurried down and was received warmly. Donald’s meditations had culminated in a plan.

“Sit down, Aunt Crete; are you sure you are rested? Then I want to talk. Suppose we run down to the shore and surprise the folks. How soon could you be ready?”

“O dear heart! I couldn’t do that!” exclaimed Aunt Crete, her face nevertheless alight with pleasure at the very thought.

“Why not? What’s to hinder?”

“O, I never go. I always stay at home and attend to things.”

“But that’s no reason. Why couldn’t things attend to themselves?”

“Why, I couldn’t leave the house alone.”

“Now, what in the world could possibly happen to the house that you could prevent by staying in it? Be reasonable, dear aunt. You know the house won’t run away while you are gone, and, if it does, I’ll get you another one. You don’t mean to tell me you never go off on a vacation. Then it’s high time you went, and you’ll have to stay the longer to make up for lost time. Besides, I want your company. I’ve never seen the Eastern coast, and expect to enjoy it hugely; but I need somebody to enjoy it with me. I can’t half take things in alone. I want somebody my very own to go with me. That’s what I came here for. I had thought of inviting you all to go down for a little trip; but, as the others are down there, why, we can join them.”

Aunt Crete’s face clouded. What would Luella say at having them appear on her horizon? The young man was all right, apparently, but there was no telling how angry Luella might be if her aunt came. She knew that Luella preferred to keep her in the background.

“I really couldn’t go, dear,” she said wistfully. “I’d like it with all my heart. And it would be specially nice to go with you, for I never had anybody to go round with me, not since your mother was a girl and used to take me with her wherever she went. I missed her dreadfully after she was married and went West. She was always so good to me.”

The young man’s face softened, and he reached his hand impulsively across the table, and grasped the toil-worn hand of his aunt.

“Well, you shall have somebody to go round with you now, auntie; that is, if you’ll let me. I’m not going to take ‘No’ for an answer. You just must go. We’ll have a vacation all by ourselves, and do just as we please, and we’ll bring up at the hotel where Aunt Carrie and Luella are, and surprise them.”

“But, child, I can’t!” said Aunt Crete in dismay, seeing his determination. “Why, I haven’t any clothes suitable to wear away from home. We were all so busy getting Luella fixed out that there wasn’t any time left for mine, and it didn’t really matter about me anyway. I never go anywhere.”

“But you’re going now, Aunt Lucretia,” said he; “and it does matter, you see. Clothes are easily bought. We’ll go shopping after breakfast to-morrow morning.”

“But I really can’t afford it, Donald,” said his aunt with an air of finality. “You know I’m not rich. If Carrie weren’t good enough to give me a home here, I shouldn’t know how to make two ends meet.”

“Never mind that, Aunt Crete; this is my layout, and I’m paying for it. We’ll go shopping to-morrow morning. I’ve got some money in my pocket I’m just aching to spend. The fact is, Aunt Crete, I struck gold up there in the Klondike, and I’ve got more money than I know what to do with.”

“O!” said Aunt Crete with awe in her voice at the thought of having more money than one knew what to do with. Then shyly, “But——”

“But what, Aunt Lucretia?” asked Donald as she hesitated and flushed till the double V came into her forehead in the old helpless, worried way.

“Why, there’s lots of canning and house-cleaning that has got to be done, and I don’t really think Carrie would like it to have me leave it all, and run away on a pleasure excursion.”

Righteous indignation filled the heart of the nephew. “Well, I should like to know why she wouldn’t like it!” he exclaimed impulsively. “Has she any better right to have a vacation than you? I’m sure you’ve earned it. You blessed little woman, you’re going to have a vacation now, in spite of yourself. Just put your conscience away in pink cotton till we get back—though I don’t know whether I shall let you come back to stay. I may spirit you off with me somewhere if I don’t like the looks of my cousin. I’ll take all the responsibility of this trip. If Aunt Carrie doesn’t like it, she may visit her wrath on me, and I’ll tell her just what I think of her. Anyhow, to the shore you are going right speedily; that is, if you want to go. If there’s some other place you’d rather go besides to the Traymore, speak the word, and there we’ll go. I want you to have a good time.”

Aunt Crete gasped with joy. The thought of the ocean, the real ocean, was wonderful. She had dreamed of it many times, but never had seen it, because she was always the one who could just as well stay at home as not. She never got run down or nervous or cross, and was ordered to go away for her health; and she never insisted upon going when the rest went. Her heart was bounding as it had not bounded since the morning of the last Sunday-school picnic she had attended when she was a girl.

“Indeed, dear boy, I do want to go with all my heart if I really ought. I have always wanted to see the ocean, and I can’t imagine any place I’d rather go than the Traymore, Luella’s talked so much about it.”

“All right. Then it’s settled that we go. How soon can we get ready? We’ll go shopping to-morrow morning bright and early, and get a trunkful of new clothes. It’s always nice to have new things when you go off; you feel like another person, and don’t have to be sewing on buttons all the time,” laughed Donald, as if he was enjoying the whole thing as much as his aunt. “I meant to have a good time getting presents for the whole family; but, as they aren’t here, I’m going to get them all for you. You’re not to say a word. Have you got a trunk?”

“Trunk? No, child. I haven’t ever had any need for a trunk. The time I went to Uncle Hiram’s funeral I took Carrie’s old haircloth one, but I don’t know’s that’s fit to travel again. Carrie’s got her flannels packed away in camphor in it now, and I shouldn’t like to disturb it.”

“Then we’ll get a trunk.”

“O, no,” protested Aunt Crete; “that would be a foolish expense. There’s some pasteboard boxes up-stairs. I can make out with them in a shawl-strap. I sha’n’t need much for a few days.”

“Enlarge your scale of things, Aunt Crete. You’re going to stay more than a few days. You’re going to stay till you’re tired, and just want to come back. As we’re going to a ‘swell’ hotel,”—Donald reflected that Aunt Crete could not understand his reference to Luella’s description of the Traymore,—“we can’t think of shawl-straps and boxes. You shall have a good big trunk. I saw an advertisement of one that has drawers and a hat-box in it, like a bureau. We’ll see if we can find one to suit.”

“It sounds just like the fairy tales I used to read to Luella when she was a little girl,” beamed Aunt Crete. “It doesn’t seem as if it was I. I can’t make it true.”

“Now let’s write down a list of things you need,” said the eager planner; “we’ll have to hurry up things, and get off this week if possible. I’ve been reading the paper, and they say there’s coming a hot wave. I need to get you to the shore before it arrives, if possible. Come; what shall I put down first? What have you always thought you’d like, Aunt Crete? Don’t you need some silk dresses?”

“O dear heart! Hear him! Silk dresses aren’t for me. Of course I’ve always had a sort of hankering after one, but nothing looks very well on me. Carrie says my figure is dumpy. I guess, if you’re a mind to, you can get me a lace collar. It’ll please me as well as anything. Luella saw some for a quarter that were real pretty. She bought one for herself. I think it would do to wear with my new pin, and all my collars are pretty much worn out.”

“Now look here, Aunt Crete! Can’t I make you understand? I mean business, and no collars for a quarter are going to do. You can have a few cheap ones for morning if you want them, but we’ll buy some real lace ones to wear with the pin. And you shall have the silk dress, two or three of them, and a lot of other things. What kind do you want?”

“O my dear boy! You just take my breath away. I with two or three silk dresses! The idea! Carrie would think me extravagant, and Luella wouldn’t like it a bit. She always tells me I’m too gay for my years.”

Donald set his lips, and wished he could have speech for a few minutes with the absent Luella. He felt that he would like to express his contempt for her treatment of their aunt.

“I’ve always thought I’d like a gray silk,” mused Aunt Crete with a dreamy look in her eyes, “but I just know Luella would think it was too dressy for me. I suppose black would be better. I can’t deny I’d like black silk, too.”

“We’ll have both,” said Donald decidedly. “I saw a woman in a silver-gray silk once. She had white hair like yours, and the effect was beautiful. Then you’ll need some other things. White dresses, I guess. That’s what my chum’s grandmother used to wear when I went there visiting in the summer.”

“White for me!” exclaimed the aunt. “O, Luella would be real angry at me getting white. She says it’s too conspicuous for old women to dress in light colors.”

“Never mind Luella. We’re doing this, and whatever we want goes. If Luella doesn’t like it, she needn’t look at it.”

Aunt Crete was all in a flutter that night. She could hardly sleep. She did not often go to town. Luella did all the shopping. Sometimes she suggested going, but Carrie always said it was a needless expense, and, besides, Luella knew how to buy at a better bargain. It was a great delight to go with Donald. Her face shone, and all the weariness of the day’s work, and all the toilsome yesterdays, disappeared from her brow.

She looked over her meagre wardrobe, most of it cast-offs from Carrie’s or Luella’s half-worn clothing, and wrote down in a cramped hand a few absolute necessities. The next morning they had an early breakfast, and started at once on their shopping-expedition. Aunt Crete felt like a little child being taken to the circus. The idea of getting a lot of new clothes all for herself seemed too serious a business to be true. She was dazed when she thought of it; and so, when Donald asked what they should look at first, she showed plainly that she would be little help in getting herself fitted out. She was far too happy to bring her mind down to practical things, and, besides, she could not adjust herself to the vast scale of expenditure Donald had set.

“Here are some collars,” said Donald. “We might as well begin on those.”

Aunt Crete examined them with enthusiasm, and finally picked out two at twenty-five cents apiece.

“Are those the best you have?” questioned Donald.

“O, no,” said the saleswoman, quick to identify the purchaser that did not stop at price; “did you want real or imitation?”

“Real, by all means,” he answered promptly.

“O Donald,” breathed Aunt Crete in a warning whisper, “real lace comes dreadful high. I’ve heard Luella say so. Besides, I shouldn’t have anything to wear it with, nor any place to go fixed up like that.”

“Have you forgotten you’re going to the Traymore in a few days?” he asked her with a twinkle in his eye. “And what about the gray silk? Won’t it go with that? If not, we’ll get something better.”

Assisted by the saleswoman, they selected two beautiful collars of real lace, and half a dozen plain ones for commoner wear.

“Couldn’t you go with us?” asked Donald of the saleswoman as the purchase was concluded. “My aunt wishes to get a good many things, and neither she nor I is much used to shopping. We’d like to have your advice.”

“I’m sorry; I’d like to, but I’m not allowed to leave this counter,” said the woman with a kindly smile. “I’m head of this department, and they can’t get along without me this morning. But they have buyers in the office just for that purpose. You go up to the desk over on the east side just beyond the rotunda, and ask for a buyer to go around with you. Get Miss Brower if you can, and tell her the head of the lace department told you to call for her. She’ll tell you just what to get,” and she smiled again at Aunt Crete’s kindly, beaming face.

They went to the desk, and found Miss Brower, who, when she heard the message, took them smilingly under her wing. She knew that meant a good sale had been made, and there would be something in it for her. Besides, she had a kindly disposition, and did not turn up a haughty nose at Aunt Crete’s dumpy little figure.

“Now, just what do you want first?” she asked brightly.

“Everything,” said Donald helplessly. “We’ve only bought a lace collar so far, and now we want all the rest of the things to go with it. The only things we’ve decided on so far are two silk dresses, a black one and a silver-gray. How do we go about it to get them? Do they have them ready-made?”

“Nothing that would be quite suitable, I’m afraid, in silks. But we’ll go and see what there is in stock,” said the assistant with skilful eye, taking in Aunt Crete’s smiling, helpless face, lovely white hair, dumpy, ill-fitted figure, and all. “There might be a gray voile that would suit her. In fact, I saw one this morning, very simple and elegant, lined with gray silk, and trimmed with lace dyed to match. It is a beauty, and just reduced this morning to thirty dollars from sixty. I believe it will fit her.”

Aunt Crete gasped at the price, and looked at Donald; but he seemed pleased, and said: “That sounds good. Let’s go and see it. We’ll have a gray—what was it you called it—voile? Remember that name, Aunt Crete. You’re going to have a gray voile. But we want the silk too. Do they make things here? We want to go away in a few days, and would like to take them with us.”

“O, yes, they’ll make anything to order; and this time of year we’re not so busy. I guess you could get a ‘hurry-up’ order on it, and have it done in a couple of days; or it could be forwarded to you if it was not quite finished when you left.”

They stepped into the elevator, and in a trice were ushered into the presence of the rare and the imported. Aunt Crete stood in a maze of delight and wonder. All this was on exhibition just for her benefit, and she was Alice in Wonderland for the hour. Donald stood back with his arms folded, and watched her with satisfaction. One thing alone was wanted to complete it. He would have liked to have Luella up in the gallery somewhere watching also. But that he held in anticipation. Luella should be made to understand that she had done wrong in underrating this sweet, patient soul.

The gray voile was entirely satisfactory to the two shoppers. Donald recognized it as the thing many women of his acquaintance wore at the receptions he had attended in university circles. Aunt Crete fingered it wistfully, and had her inward doubts whether anything so frail and lovely, like a delicate veil, would wear; but, looking at Donald’s happy face, she decided not to mention it. The dress was more beautiful than anything she had ever dreamed of possessing. “But it won’t fit me,” she sighed as she and Miss Brower were on the way to the “trying-on” room, where the garment was to be fitted to her. “I’m so dumpy, you know, and Luella always says it’s no use to get me anything ready-made.”

“O, the fitter will make it fit,” said Miss Brower convincingly; and then, with a glance at the ample waist, whose old-fashioned lines lay meekly awry as if they were used to being put on that way and were beyond even discouragement: “Why don’t you wear one of those stiffened waists? There’s a new one on sale, has soft bones all around, and is real comfortable. It would make your dresses set a great deal better. If you like, I’ll go get one, and you can be fitted over it. You don’t like anything very tight, do you?”

“No,” said Aunt Crete in a deprecatory tone, “I never could bear anything real tight. That’s what puts Luella out so about me. But, if you say there’s a waist that’s comfortable, I should be so obliged if you’d get it. I’d be willing to pay any price not to look so dumpy.”

She felt that if it took the last cent she possessed, and made all her relatives angry with her, she must have something to fit her once.

Miss Brower, thus commissioned, went away, and returned very soon with the magical waist that was to transform Miss Lucretia’s “figger.” If Donald could have seen his aunt’s face when she was finally arrayed in the soft folds of the gray voile and was being pinned up and pinned down and pinned in and pinned out, he would have been fully repaid. Aunt Crete’s ecstasy was marred only by the fact that Luella could not see her grandeur. Actually being fitted in a department-store to a “real imported” dress! Could mortal attain higher in this mundane sphere?

When the fitting was pronounced done and Aunt Crete was about to don her discouraged shirt-waist once more, Miss Brower appeared in the doorway with a coat and skirt suit over her arm, made of fine soft black taffeta.

“Just put this on and let the gentleman see how he likes it,” she said. She had been out to talk over matters with Donald and have an understanding as to what was wanted. She had advised the taffeta coat and skirt for travelling, with an extra cloth coat for cool days. Aunt Crete, with the new dignity that consciousness of her improved figure gave her, rustled out to her nephew looking like a new woman, her face beaming.

That was a wonderful day. Aunt Crete retired again for the black taffeta to be altered a little, and yet again for a black and white dotted swiss, and a white linen suit, and a handsome black crÊpe de chine, and then to have the measure taken for the silver-gray silk, which the head dressmaker promised could be hurried through. They bought a black chiffon waist and some filmy, dreamy white shirt-waists, simple and plain in design, with exquisite lace simply applied, fine hand-made tucks, and finer material. Miss Brower advised white linen and white lawn for morning wear at the seashore, and gave Aunt Crete confidence, telling how she had a customer, “a woman about as old as you, with just such lovely white hair,” who but yesterday purchased a set of white dresses for morning wear at the seashore. This silenced the thoughts of her sister’s horror at “White for you, Crete! What are you thinking of?” Never mind, she was going to have one good time, even if she had to put all her lovely finery away in a trunk afterwards, and never bring it out again, or—dreary thought—were made to cut it over for Luella sometime. Well, it might come to that, but at least she would enjoy it while it was hers.

Two white linen skirts, a handsome black cloth coat, several pairs of silk gloves, black and white, some undergarments dainty enough for a bride, a whole dozen pairs of stockings! How Aunt Crete rejoiced in those! She had been wearing stockings whose feet were cut out of old stocking legs for fifteen years. She couldn’t remember when she had had a whole new pair of stockings all her own. And then two new bonnets.

All these things were acquired little by little. It was while they were in the millinery department, and Miss Brower had just set a charming black lace bonnet made on a foundation of white roses on the white hair, that Donald decided she was one of the most beautiful old ladies he had ever seen. The drapery was a fine black lace scarf, which swept around the roses and tied loosely on the breast; and it gave the quiet little woman a queenly air. She was getting used to seeing her own face in strange adornments, but it startled her to see that she really looked handsome in this bonnet. She stood before the transformation in the mirror almost in awe, and never heard what Miss Brower was saying:

“That’s just the thing for best, and there’s a lovely lace wrap in the cloak department she ought to have to go with it. It would be charming.”

“Get it,” said Donald with respectful brevity. He was astonished himself at the difference mere clothes made. Aunt Crete was fairly impressive in her new bonnet. And the lace wrap proved indeed to be the very mate to the bonnet, hiding the comfortable figure, and making her look “just like other people,” as she breathlessly expressed it after one glance at herself in the lace wrap.

They bought a plain black bonnet, a sweet little gray one, a fine silk umbrella, a lot of pretty belts and handkerchiefs, some shoes and rubbers, a hand-bag of cut steel, for which Luella would have bartered her conscience—what there was left of it; and then they smiled good-by at Miss Brower, and left her for a little while, and went to lunch.

Such a lunch! Soup, and fish, and spring lamb, and fresh peas, and new potatoes, and two kinds of ice-cream in little hard sugar cases that looked like baked snow-balls. Aunt Crete’s hand trembled as she took the first spoonful. The wonders of the day had been so great that she was fairly worn out, and two little bright red spots of excitement had appeared in her cheeks, but she was happy! Happier than she remembered ever to have been in her life before. Her dear old conscience had a moment of sighing that Luella could not have been there to have enjoyed it too, and then her heart bounded in wicked gleefulness that Luella was not there to stop her nice time.

They went into a great hall in the same store, and sat among the palms and coolness made by electric fans, while a wonderful organ played exquisite music, and Aunt Crete felt she certainly was in heaven without the trouble of dying; and she never dreamed, dear soul, that she had been dying all her life that others might live, and that it is to such that the reward is promised.

They went back to Miss Brower later; and behold! the silver-gray silk had been cut out, and was ready to fit. Aunt Crete felt it was fairy-work, the whole of it, and she touched the fabric as if it had been made by magic.

Then they went and bought a trunk and a handsome leather satchel, and Donald took a notion that his aunt must have a set of silver combs for her hair such as he saw in the hair of another old lady.

“Now,” said Donald reflectively, “we’ll go home and get rested, and to-morrow we’ll come down and buy any things we’ve forgotten.”

“And I’m sure I don’t see what more a body could possibly need,” said Aunt Crete, as, tired and absolutely contented, she climbed into the train and sat down in the hot plush seat.

The one bitter drop in the cup of bliss came the next morning—or rather two drops—in the shape of letters. One from Aunt Carrie for Donald was couched in stiffest terms, in which she professed to have just heard of his coming, and to be exceedingly sorry that she was not at home, and was kept from returning only by a sprained ankle, the doctor telling her that she must not put her foot to the ground for two or three weeks yet, or she would have to suffer for it.

The other letter was for Aunt Crete, and was a rehash of the telephone message, with a good sound scolding for having gone away from the telephone before she finished speaking. Luella had written it herself because she felt like venting her temper on some one. The young man that had been so attentive to her in town had promenaded the piazza with another young woman all the evening before. Luella hoped Aunt Crete would put up plenty of gooseberry jam. Aunt Crete put on her double V as she read, and sighed for a full minute before Donald looked up amused from his letter.

“Now, Aunt Crete, you look as if a mountain had rolled down upon you. What’s the matter?”

“O, I’m just afraid, Donald, that I’m doing wrong going off this way, when Carrie expects me to do all this canning and sewing and cleaning. I’m afraid she’ll never forgive me.”

“Now, Aunt Crete, don’t you love me? Didn’t I tell you I’d stand between you and the whole world? Please put that letter up, and come and help me pack your new trunk. Do you want that gray silk put in first, or shall I put the shoes at the bottom? Don’t you know you and I are going to have the time of our lives? We’re going to run away from every care. Do you suppose your own sister would want you to stay here roasting in the city if she knew you had a nephew just aching to carry you off to the ocean? Come, forget it. Cut it out, Aunt Crete, and let’s pack the trunk. I’m longing to be off to smell the briny deep.” And laughingly he carried her away, and plunged her into thoughts of her journey, giving her no time the rest of the day to think of anything else.