Whether she liked him or not, he
should have the best she could offer.
"_I'm_ going to bring Robin--I mean, Miss Forsyth, down here the next
time _I_ come," broke in Beryl.
"And of course you can. And Dale shall bring his friend, too."
"And you can wear your fine beads, Sis," finished Dale, teasingly.
"And it's a nice pot roast and cabbage salad we'll have, too. And a bit
of the fruit cake with real butter sauce." Wasn't she going to get her
check soon from the store to which she sent her lace?
So Beryl forgot her vexation and Dale his problem with his wooden toy in
pleasant anticipation of the "dinner party," as Mrs. Moira grandly
called it, out of respect to the pot roast and the fruit cake which Miss
Lewis had sent them and which was hidden away in a huge crock in the
shed.
"Mom, can't I take the beads back with me? They're so pretty and I
haven't a thing that's nice," begged Beryl as the moment for her to
return to the Manor came.
"The Princess and the Beggar-maid!" laughed Dale.
"My fine lady must have her jewels!" added big Danny.
Beryl flushed under their teasing but held her tongue, for didn't she
always have that picture blazed in her heart of the moment when with her
violin she would hold enthralled her unappreciative family and thousands
of others? _Then_ they would not laugh at her!
"I'll be ever so careful of them and only wear them once in a while,"
she promised.
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