The Spectacle Man Part 15

"I don't know, Wink, unless it was for some advice."

"I think Mark is a nice boy; I am glad he came home," Frances remarked as she took off her hat.

At the same moment, down in the study, Mark was saying: "How did you ever happen to find them, Uncle George?-- Mrs. Morrison and Frances, I mean. They are not like--everybody; they are the real thing. That Frances is a regular little princess! How did they happen to come here?"

"I, too, have wondered at it, my boy, but I have learned to take the good things that come my way without asking many questions," was the old man's reply.

CHAPTER FOURTEENTH.

THREE OF A NAME.

Frances stood thoughtfully looking out of the window. To-morrow would be New Year's Day and also her mother's birthday, and she had not remembered it till this morning. She wondered if she could not in some way get some flowers for her. She had her Christmas money from Uncle Allan in California, and there was nothing her mother enjoyed more than flowers, but who would go with her to get them? Zen.o.bia was busy, and Emma was taking care of the General, who had had an attack of croup.

As she stood there Mark came up the walk and lifted his hat to her.

"Perhaps he will take me," she said, and running into the hall she called from the head of the stairs: "Mark, are you very busy? Could you do something for me?"

"I am at your ladys.h.i.+p's command," was the reply.

"Then I'll come down and tell you, for it is a secret."

"Is it? Well, I'm splendid at keeping secrets."

Descending, Frances stated the case, and Mark not only said he would be glad to go with her, but he knew a place where she could get flowers much cheaper than down town.

"I'm so much obliged to you, and now I must ask mother if I can go,"

Frances said. "I can say you _want_ me to go, can't I? It will be true, won't it?" she stopped halfway up the steps to inquire.

"Nothing could be truer," said Mark, laughing.

It did not take long to get her mother's permission, and in a very few minutes she came flying down to join her escort at the door.

As they walked up the street, talking merrily, more than one pa.s.ser-by smiled at the pleasant sight, and turned to look again at the tall boy and the bright-eyed little girl.

In these two weeks they had come to be great friends. Frances rather enjoyed his teasing ways, which so alarmed Emma, and had always a saucy reply of some sort ready. She liked to be called your ladys.h.i.+p, and accepted his mock homage with a most regal air.

"What kind of flowers are you going to buy?" Mark asked.

"Violets, I think, because mother is specially fond of them."

"Aren't they rather expensive?"

"I don't know. I have two dollars; won't that be enough?" she asked anxiously.

"Dear me, I had no idea you were so rich! Are you going to spend all that?"

"I don't think that is too much to spend on your mother," she replied with emphasis.

"Certainly not, I wasn't objecting in the least."

"No, it wouldn't do any good," she a.s.serted with dignity.

Mark laughed, and inquired what flowers she liked best herself.

"Great big red roses," was the prompt answer.

"Commend me to a princess for extravagant tastes!" Mark exclaimed, laughing.

The greenhouse was an enchanting place, and after the violets were ordered Frances wandered up and down the fragrant aisles, quite unwilling to leave. Mark at length grew impatient. "I am afraid it is going to storm; we must go," he said.

Sure enough, before they had gone two blocks it began to rain. Mark glanced uneasily at the clouds and then at his companion. Neither of them had thought of bringing an umbrella.

"We can take the car at the next corner unless it begins to pour; in that case we shall have to go in somewhere," he said, taking her hand.

They were hurrying down the avenue when they heard some one call, "Frances! Frances!" and there was Mrs. Marvin just leaving her carriage at the gate. "You must come in and wait till the storm is over," she said, and almost before they knew what had happened they found themselves standing on the porch with her, while the rain swept down in torrents.

"I am grateful to the wind for blowing you in my direction," Mrs. Marvin said, looking at Frances with her intent gaze.

The little girl smiled, and then remembering that Mrs. Marvin did not know Mark, she introduced him.

The lady was very gracious and asked him in to wait till the storm was over, but Mark said he had an engagement at home to meet a friend, and did not mind the rain for himself; so, being provided with an umbrella, he went off, promising to return for Frances when it cleared. This Mrs.

Marvin a.s.sured him would not be necessary, as she would send her home.

"I am always getting caught in the rain," said Frances, as she went upstairs, her hand clasped in Mrs. Marvin's. "That was the way I happened to get acquainted with the Spectacle Man."

"I am glad something brought you to me; I have been wondering if I should ever see you again."

When her own room was reached the lady sat down and drew the child to her. "Have you forgotten me in all these weeks?" she asked.

"Oh, no, I couldn't do that," was the reply.

"You couldn't? Why not?" and she was drawn closer.

Frances thought this was not the sort of person to be easily forgotten, but she only smiled.

"I'd better not take it off," she said, as Mrs. Marvin began to unfasten her coat. "Mark will be back."

"But you couldn't go out in such a storm, dear; you are going to take lunch with me."

Clearly there was nothing to do but submit, and Frances was not unwilling. Mrs. Marvin looked at her fondly; the slender little figure in the blue sailor suit quite satisfied her fastidious taste. It puzzled her, too, for such daintiness and grace seemed to her altogether incompatible with what she had heard of the child's surroundings. Her sympathies were narrowed by her sensitiveness to anything that fell below her own standard of taste. She had yet to learn that there was a broader culture than hers. No wonder she was bewildered as she listened to Frances' frank chatter.

That this young person was very much of a chatterbox could not be denied. Her father often said it would not take a Philadelphia lawyer to find out all she knew, and on this occasion she had an interested hearer.

"Emma and I think this is a lovely house," she remarked, as they went down to lunch. "I like our flat," she added loyally, "only of course there isn't so much room in it."

This, to her, made the chief difference,--more room, more things. Her own home life had always been harmonious, had expressed grace and refinement in a simpler way, indeed, but as truly as Mrs. Marvin's; and so having always had the emphasis laid upon the best things, she felt no embarra.s.sment, but only a frank enjoyment in this beautiful house.