“Never mind, and don’t get angry, Jack. They are right about one thing,—the daisies in my bonnet _were_ real, and I _couldn’t_ afford any others. I don’t care much, only Pris worked so hard to get me ready I hate to have my things made fun of.”
“He isn’t worth a thrashing, so we’ll let it pass this time,” said Jack, irefully, yet privately resolving to have it out with Fletcher by and by.
“Why, Kitty, I thought the real daisies the prettiest things about your dress. Don’t throw them away. I’ll wear them just to show that noodle that I prefer nature to art;” and Jack gallantly stuck the faded posy in his button-hole, while Kitty treasured up the hint so kindly given for future use.
If a clock with great want of tact hadn’t insisted on telling them that it was getting late, Kitty never would have got home, for both the young people felt inclined to loiter about arm in arm through the sweet summer night forever. Jack had meant to say something before she went, and was immensely surprised to find the chance lost for the present. He wanted to go home with her and free his mind; but a neighborly old gentleman having been engaged as escort, there would have been very little satisfaction in a travelling trio; so he gave it up. He was very silent as they walked to the station with Dr. Dodd trudging behind them. Kitty thought he was tired, perhaps glad to be rid of her, and meekly accepted her fate. But as the train approached, she gave his hand an impulsive squeeze, and said very gratefully,—
“Jack, I can’t thank you enough for your kindness to your silly little cousin; but I never shall forget it, and if I ever can return it in any way, I will with all my heart.”
Jack looked down at the young face almost pathetic now with weariness, humility, and pain, yet very sweet, with that new shyness in the loving eyes, and, stooping suddenly, he kissed it, whispering in a tone that made the girl’s heart flutter,—
“I’ll tell you how you may return it ‘with all your heart,’ by and by. Good-night, my Kitty.”
“Have you had a good time, dear?” asked Pris, as her sister appeared an hour later.
“Don’t I look as if I had?” and, throwing off her wraps, Kitty revolved slowly before her that she might behold every portion of the wreck. “My gown is all dust, crumple, and rags, my bonnet perfectly limp and flat, and my gloves are ruined; I’ve broken Lizzie’s parasol, made a spectacle of myself, and wasted money, time, and temper; yet my Class Day isn’t a failure, for Jack is the dearest boy in the world, and I’m very, very happy!”