clearly, and these lips do something besides simper and gossip?”
Fanny was silent; but a voice from Bess’s corner said, “Put a child
in her arms, Becky.”
“Not that even, for she is to be something more than a nurse.”
“Give her a ballot-box,” cried a new voice, and turning round, they
saw an odd-looking woman perched on a sofa behind them.
“Thank you for the suggestion, Kate. I ‘ll put that with the other
symbols at her feet; for I ‘m going to have needle, pen, palette, and
broom somewhere, to suggest the various talents she owns, and the
ballot-box will show that she has earned the right to use them.
How goes it?” and Rebecca offered a clay-daubed hand, which the
new-comer cordially shook.
“Great news, girls! Anna is going to Italy!” cried Kate, tossing up
her bonnet like a school-boy.
“Oh, how splendid! Who takes her? Has she had a fortune left her?
Tell all about it,” exclaimed the girls, gathering round the speaker.
“Yes, it is splendid; just one of the beautiful things that does
everybody heaps of good, it is so generous and so deserved. You
know Anna has been longing to go; working and hoping for a
chance, and never getting it, till all of a sudden Miss Burton is
inspired to invite the girl to go with her for several years to Italy.
Think of the luck of that dear soul, the advantages she ‘ll have, the
good it will do her, and, best of all, the lovely way in which it
comes to her. Miss Burton wants, her as a friend, asks nothing of
her but her company, and Anna will go through fire and water for
her, of course. Now, is n’t that fine?”
It was good to see how heartily these girls sympathized in their
comrade’s good fortune. Polly danced all over the room, Bess and
Becky hugged one another, and Kate laughed with her eyes full,
while even Fanny felt a glow of, pride and pleasure at the kind act.
“Who is that?” she whispered to Polly, who had subsided into a
corner.
“Why, it Is Kate King, the authoress. Bless me, how rude not to
introduce you! Here, my King, is an admirer of yours, Fanny Shaw,
and my well beloved friend,” cried Polly, presenting Fan, who
regarded the shabby young woman with as much respect, as if she
had been arrayed in velvet and ermine; for Kate had written a
successful book by accident, and happened to be the fashion, just
then.
“It ‘s time for lunch, girls, and I brought mine along with me, it ‘s
so much jollier to eat in sisterhood. Let ‘s club together, and have a
revel,” said Kate, producing a bag of oranges, and several big,
plummy buns.
“We ‘ve got sardines, crackers, and cheese,” said Bess, clearing off
a table with all speed.
“Wait a bit, and I ‘ll add my share,” cried Polly, and catching up
her cloak, she ran off to the grocery store near by.
“You ‘ll be shocked at our performances, Miss Shaw, but you can
call it a picnic, and never tell what dreadful things you saw us do,”
said Rebecca, polishing a paint knife by rubbing it up and down in
a pot of ivy, while Kate spread forth the feast in several odd plates,
and a flat shell or two.
“Let us have coffee to finish off with; put on the pot, Bess, and
skim the milk,” added Becky, as she produced cups, mugs, and a
queer little vase, to supply drinking vessels for the party.
“Here ‘s nuts, a pot of jam, and some cake. Fan likes sweet things,
and we want to be elegant when we have company,” said Polly,
flying in again, and depositing her share on the table.
“Now, then, fall to, ladies, and help yourselves. Never mind if the
china don’t hold out; take the sardines by their little tails, and wipe
your fingers on my brown-paper napkins,” said Kate, setting the
example with such a relish, that the others followed it in a gale of
merriment.
Fanny had been to many elegant lunches, but never enjoyed one
more than that droll picnic in the studio; for there was a freedom