  Nan Barrington’s eighteenth birthday dawned gloriously and as soon as they were dressed Phyllis disappeared to return a moment later with an armful of wonderful red roses. “It’s a happy birthday greeting from a cousin of mine,” she laughingly told the surprised girl. “Oh, are they from Peggy Dorchester?” Nan exclaimed as she took them. Her friend’s eyes twinkled. “No,” she said “this cousin’s name is not Peg. Guess again.” Nan’s dark eyes were glowing above the beautiful bouquet. “Oh, then they are from Robert. How kind of him to remember my birthday.” Lovingly she arranged the fragrant roses in a large green jar and, selecting a bud, she placed it in her friend’s belt and fastened another at her own. Then slipping her arm about Phyllis and chatting happily, they went down the broad front stairway to the refectory. When they were returning, half an hour later, Mrs. Dorsey was in the corridor and she smiled lovingly in response to the girls’ morning greeting. “Anne,” she said, “this is your eighteenth birthday, is it not? Can you spare a few moments for a visit with me?” Nan’s face brightened. “Oh yes, indeed, Mrs. Dorsey,” she replied. Phyllis went on to the library and the gypsy girl entered the office with the kindly principal. “Be seated, dear,” Mrs. Dorsey said. “I have long planned having this visit with you and now that you are soon to leave us, I must no longer delay. Miss Dahlia Barrington, who, as you know, was a schoolmate of mine, told me how you chanced to come into their lives. Miss Dahlia is very proud of you and Miss Ursula is also. I, too, am proud of your splendid accomplishments, Anne. I feel that you have made much progress in the three years that you have been with us and I deeply regret that you are about to graduate. I know nothing of your plans for the future but, if the time ever comes when you wish to be self-supporting, I will be glad to give you a position as a teacher of languages and music for the younger pupils.” “Oh, Mrs. Dorsey!” Nan exclaimed gratefully, “how very kind of you to make me such an offer. If Miss Dahlia will permit me to do so, I will gladly start teaching the little ones at the beginning of the fall term. I have hoped that I might find some way to repay my benefactors, for, of course, I have been a great expense to them.” Mrs. Dorsey smiled and, as she stood, Nan also arose. “I shall indeed be glad to have you with us, Anne,” the kind woman said as she kissed the girl on each cheek, then she added brightly. “Happy birthday, dear, and may each coming year find you as unspoiled and lovable as you are today.” Nan flushed happily at this praise and then she sought Phyllis to tell her the wonderful news. “You, a teacher!” her friend cried in dismay. “Oh Nan, I did so want you to go to college with me next year. Your aunts are very rich, I am sure, and I just know that they will not think of permitting you to earn your own living.” Nan stood looking thoughtfully out of the open library window. “I would rather be independent,” she declared. Then, noting her friend’s dismal expression, she laughingly caught her hands as she said, “Well, we won’t decide the matter, now. I’ll talk it over with Aunt Dahlia when she comes.” The two girls spent a happy morning together and in the afternoon Nan said, “I wonder why Aunt Dahlia and Aunt Ursula do not come. They wrote that they would be here early and take us both for a long drive.” Another half hour passed and then there was a knock at the door. Nan sprang up joyously. “It’s Marie to tell me that my dear aunts have arrived.” It was indeed Marie, who held out a yellow envelope as she said, “This telegram just came, Miss Anne. Mrs. Dorsey isn’t in, so I thought I’d better bring it right up to you.” When the door had again closed, Nan turned toward her friend with startled eyes. “Oh Phyllis,” she said fearfully, “do you suppose that Aunt Dahlia is ill?” Then, tearing open the yellow envelope, the two girls read the few words that the message contained. “Miss Ursula Barrington died last night. Miss Dahlia wishes you to come at once.” The signature was that of a stranger. “Aunt Ursula dead!” Nan repeated in dazed uncomprehension. “It can’t be. It must be a mistake, for only day before yesterday I received a long letter from her and she wrote that she was feeling unusually well.” “I fear that it cannot be a mistake,” her friend said tenderly, “but you must be brave and strong, Nan, for your Aunt Dahlia will need you to comfort her.” “You are right, Phyllis, I will go to her at once. Have I time to get the three o’clock train?” “I think so, dear. You pack what we will need in your satchel and I will go and ask Patrick to bring around the school bus.” “Why, Phyllis, are you going with me? Mrs. Dorsey is not here to ask.” “I know Mrs. Dorsey would wish me to go with you. I would not think of permitting you to go alone.” A few hours later these two girls entered the city home of the Barringtons. The lower hall seemed strangely silent, and at once they ascended the stairway to Miss Dahlia’s room. They found her sitting there alone and when they entered she hurried toward the girl whom she so loved. “Oh Nan darling,” she said with tears rolling down her wrinkled cheeks. “I can’t understand it. I can’t believe that it has really happened. It was all so sudden.” The young girl held the feebled old lady in a close embrace, then leading her to a wide lounge, she sat beside her, taking the frail hands in her strong ones. “Dear Aunt Dahlia,” she said, “tell me what has happened. Has Aunt Ursula been ill?” “No, not at all. Yesterday morning a business-like looking envelope was in the mail for her. She took it at once to her study and remained there until noon, continually writing, and when at last she came to lunch, she looked worn and haggard, but when I asked her if she felt ill, she said no, and then she did something very unusual for her. She kissed me, saying in an almost pitying tone, ‘Poor little sister Dahlia.’ “Directly after lunch she returned to her study and continued writing. In the afternoon she sent Dorcas to the postbox with several letters. Last night we sat by the fireplace reading when suddenly her book slipped to the floor. I looked up and saw that she seemed to be asleep. This was so very unusual that I tried to waken her, but could not. “The doctor whom I had Dorcas summon, said that my sister must have had some great and sudden shock. What it could have been, I do not know. I searched in her desk for that business-like envelope, but it was gone.” Then leaning against the girl, she added, “Oh, Nan darling, how thankful I am that you came to us so long ago. If I did not have you, I would now be all alone in the world.” The girl kissed the little old lady tenderly as she said, “Dear Aunt Dahlia, I, too, am thankful.” Half an hour later Nan went to her own room and on her desk she saw a large envelope addressed, “To my beloved niece, Anne Barrington.” The writing was Miss Ursula’s. |
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