I am coming back this way in the spring, and this gown
is so beautifully made that I shall be glad to order my entire summer
wardrobe from you."
"Why, Rhoda Balfour!" exclaimed her cousin again, while madame bowed
and smiled and bowed again.
As for Cicely, she went back to the workroom almost dazed, and
tingling with the remembrance of Miss Balfour's friendly tones. It was
several hours later when she climbed the stairs to her little back
bedroom to light her coal-oil stove, and make her toast and tea. Her
eyes were still swollen from crying, but she had not felt so
light-hearted for weeks.
Just inside her door she stumbled over a big pasteboard box. There was
a note on top, and she hurried to light her lamp. "I know that you
will be glad to hear I am going to the party, after all," she read. "I
have found a very pretty white dress in my cousin's wardrobe that fits
me well enough. As long as you have had such a thorny time on my
account, it is only fair that you should share my roses; so I send
them with the earnest wish that the coming year may bring you no thorn
without some rose to cover it, and that it may be a very, very happy
New Year indeed to you. Sincerely your friend, Rhoda Balfour."
Cicely tore aside the paraffine paper, and found six great roses, each
with a leafy stem half as long as Cicely herself.
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