The Gold of Chickaree — Part 199

Hazel looked up at him with wide-open eyes while he spoke, then down at herself, taking a sort of inventory of her own belongings. What stores of embroidery and lace were there, even hidden away and out of sight! And what sort of relation did these costly silken folds bear to those needed calicoes? _Her_ note-paper was monogrammed and edged to double its first cost;—that shawl, tossed carelessly on a chair, would have clothed in flannel a whole hospital of sick children. Point by point she went over it all past the thirty dollar buckle at her belt down to—I dare not say how many dollars' worth of shoes that covered the little feet.

And these people were life-long workers for good—or children of such men and women, who had hazarded their lives for the Lord Jesus,—and she, an idler all her life! Hazel put her head down in her hands, and answered not a word.

Dane waited awhile; then he ventured a gentle query.

'I cannot bear myself!' Hazel broke out. 'I feel as if I had been stealing, and defrauding, and embezzling, and every other dishonest word in the dictionary! O do you think the cry of _such_ labourers has been going up against me, all my life?'

'What shall we put in our boxes?' said Dane smiling.

Hazel caught up a bit of paper and ran off a list long enough to call for good packing,—then she stopped suddenly.

'Olaf—we cannot send in the dark. One man may have ten children, and another may have no wife. And people in Florida don't want thick shawls, and Oregon can do without thin muslins.'

'We will pack every box according to its destination. Let me hear your list.'

'Well,' said Hazel, folding her hands and gazing into the fire, 'let's begin with an imaginary family. People rather old, five children, and one of them delicate. And suppose they want a general outfit,—a great piece of white cotton, and plenty of flannel; and I have seen Mrs. Bywank dispense ready-made felt shirts.'

'Then there must be dresses, of course; and one specially nice for the minister's wife. And a shawl. For her, I mean. The delicate child must have a soft quilted jacket, and bright-coloured warm wrapper, for days when she wants to lie on the sofa.'

But here Dane caught his wife in his arms and between laughing and kisses informed her that she was playing her "Rolle" of fairy again and getting impracticable.