Fidelia asked: "Let me do that last little bit, David! You see," she explained, "when I saw that dress, which I took out of your bundle, I couldn't help seeing my aunt Minna."
"Wearing the dress?" said Dave.
"No; I thought of somebody like aunt Minna giving it to your mother, after it was worn; and I had to send what I did. Now let's go see lots of people!"
She would not tell what she had spent; and Dave gave up argument, knowing he would learn of these purchases from his mother. He went with Fidelia to Michigan Avenue where they turned south along the gay, fashionable shops. He longed to buy something for her; when he looked into the windows, he thought how this and that would look on her. He was lighthearted and happy as he had been only with her; and he thrilled with the admiration she aroused on the boulevard.
Every one had to gaze at her; many stared; and nearly every one, after staring at her, glanced at him and envied him. She took the attention beautifully, not pretending to be utterly unconscious of it but never made self-conscious by it.
Perhaps, upon that warm May afternoon in the shadows of the tall buildings, with the shafts of the sun laying their golden light at each street intersection, Fidelia was fairer and more alluring than ever before. She made no obvious attempt to attract; she was in a plain, blue street dress with a straw hat and gray gloves; only now she left off her veil. Obviously, to be sure, she was happy; and to Dave, that was a triumphant walk. He had never felt of such account
