“elizabeth,” alec asked the next morning, as they were on their way to school, “what was that mrs. clyde called you just now?”

“blue bonnet. my name is elizabeth blue bonnet ashe. alec, i wish you’d call me that, too, instead of elizabeth.”

“i most certainly will. are you named after the ranch?”

“partly; partly after the flower. the blue bonnet is our state flower.”

“how jolly! but why on earth haven’t we been calling you that all along?—blue bonnet seems much more suitable for you than elizabeth.”

“oh—because.”

“you’re awfully fond of that—‘because.’”

“it’s such a convenient word.”

“from your point of view. from mine—it’s rather inadequate. see here, blue bonnet, is that why your uncle is so fond of whistling ‘all the blue bonnets’?”

“yes. whistle it for me right now, please, alec!”

141 “i guess not.—to think how i’ve been elizabething you all this time!”

“i’ve never minded your way of saying it—nor kitty’s; it didn’t sound so very hard to live up to. but when aunt lucinda used to say it, in a particular sort of tone she has, it was—depressing. you couldn’t say blue bonnet that way, could you?”

“doesn’t that remain to be seen?” alec laughed.

the new, or rather the old, name spread like wildfire among blue bonnet’s especial friends—kitty, like alec, declaring it far more appropriate to its owner than the more formal elizabeth.

“oh, blue bonnet,” she asked one afternoon a few days later, “had your friend mrs. prior to tea lately?”

“no.”

“being such an intimate friend, of course you know she’s sick?”

“kitty, don’t be horrid!—no, i didn’t know it.”

“papa doesn’t think she’s going to get well. he says he’s never seen anyone more anxious not to.”

“kitty, how dreadful!”

“i don’t know,” kitty answered, with unusual gravity; “she hasn’t much to live for.”

blue bonnet’s eyes were very pitiful. “and i meant to do so much for her!” she went home in quiet mood. it was like a day in early october,142 rather than november. how could anyone, on such a day, not want to live! she wished she might go out to the town farm; but grandmother and aunt lucinda were making calls, and she must wait until their return to ask permission.

she took her books out to the hammock on the sunny back piazza, finding it even harder than usual to fix her thoughts on her studies; they would wander to the bare old house, out beyond the turnpike.

alec, coming over, came upon her before she heard him. “is it a brown study?” he asked. “it looks a little like a blue one.”

“alec, did you know that poor old mrs. prior was sick?”

alec sat down on the steps. “she isn’t—now. i just met dr. clark.”

“alec, i simply hate myself!”

“what in the world is up now, blue bonnet?”

“i meant to be such a friend to her—she said she hadn’t any friends.”

“i think you did your share—you gave her one good time; that’s a whole lot more than any of the rest of us ever thought of doing. and she’s got her friends now, blue bonnet,—so don’t you worry.”

blue bonnet sighed. “i reckon, aunt lucinda would have let me take her some flowers, or something, now and then; but i just forgot all about143 her—after the first. a pretty friend she must have thought me!”

“i daresay she did,” alec answered. “it strikes me, young lady, you’d better come up out of those depths and get to business.”

blue bonnet took up her history. “i’ve read it over three times, and i don’t remember one word of it. it’s very stupid anyhow. who wants to know about a lot of battles that happened before one was born?”

“miss rankin will, for one,” alec laughed. he got up, whistling to bob and ben, who were having a game of tag on the lawn with solomon. “i’m off. mind you quit worrying and tend to that history.”

“grandmother,” blue bonnet asked that evening, “may i send some flowers—for mrs. prior?”

“certainly, dear;” and when blue bonnet had gone upstairs, mrs. clyde turned to her daughter. “it is getting to be ‘may i?’ much more frequently than ‘i’m going to,’ lucinda.”

“yes,” aunt lucinda agreed; “i really think blue bonnet has improved a good deal lately.”

the next day grandmother and aunt lucinda went in to boston for the night, and blue bonnet was allowed to invite sarah to spend the afternoon and night with her.

blue bonnet’s own choice would have been kitty.144 sarah accepted the invitation with pleasure. “i’d like to come very much, blue bonnet,” she said; “i’ll ask mother at noon.”

“i’d’ve loved it,” kitty said; “you’d have a lot more fun, if you’d’ve asked me, blue bonnet ashe.”

“i might have had too much,” blue bonnet laughed. “i reckon aunt lucinda must have thought so. i’ll try to have you next time, kitty.”

“second choice!” kitty answered.

blue bonnet went in with sarah that afternoon, while she got her things. it was the afternoon of the church sewing society, held this time at the parsonage. blue bonnet was much interested in the scene. “only some of the things aren’t very—pretty,” she told herself. if ever she joined a sewing society,—which it was hard to imagine herself doing—she should insist on making pretty things—they were so much more really important than just necessary ones.

sarah kept her waiting quite a while. the blake family was a large one; and sarah, as the eldest child, was burdened with many cares. it was almost unprecedented, her going away for the night. quite a small army of protesting children followed her and blue bonnet down to the gate.

the moment it had clicked behind them, blue bonnet turned to sarah. “what are they making all those things for?”

145 “they’re getting a box ready.”

“a box?”

“dear me, blue bonnet, don’t you understand?” and sarah explained.

“where is it going?” blue bonnet asked.

“i think—why, blue bonnet, it’s going to texas!”

“i wish i could go in it,” blue bonnet said wistfully.

“you’d take up too much room; and you wouldn’t get much fresh air on the way.”

“whom is it going to?”

“a rev. mr. judson, i think; he’s a church missionary, and very poor. they’ve a lot of children.”

“why don’t they send prettier things?”

“useful things are much better,” sarah answered. “blue bonnet, let’s—”

“things can be pretty and useful too,” blue bonnet interrupted.

“i guess they’ll be very glad to get it,” sarah said. “blue bonnet, let’s study this afternoon; then we can have the evening to enjoy ourselves in.”

“all right,” the other agreed cheerfully. “but you’ve got to keep strictly to the thing in hand, if you’re going to study with me, sarah blake.”

blue bonnet’s preparations for studying were146 rather a surprise to sarah. they consisted of two great chairs drawn close to the broad west window in the dining-room, a dish of apples, and another of cookies. “one can’t work well when one’s hungry,” blue bonnet explained. “and one can eat so well when one’s working.”

and, in spite of sarah’s protests, she was made to occupy one of the big chairs and take one of the big apples, before blue bonnet would allow her to open a book.

after that, however, blue bonnet settled down to her books bravely. scarcely speaking, save for a little exclamation of perplexity or impatience, now and then.

blue bonnet was trying very hard to remember her promise to mr. hunt these days; in consequence, matters at school were running much more smoothly. she did not know how often miss rankin, recognizing how earnestly the girl was endeavoring to do her best, helped her over more than one rough place. she did know that she was really getting to like miss rankin and to want to please her.

“i suppose,” she said, laying the last book down with a long breath of relief, “that she’s an acquired taste—like olives.”

“who is?” sarah asked; sarah was not quite through.

“the ‘rankin’ officer.’”

147 “miss rankin like olives!” sarah exclaimed, thoroughly puzzled. “blue bonnet, what do you mean?”

“doesn’t she like them?” blue bonnet asked, carefully selecting another apple.

“i wish you wouldn’t tease, blue bonnet,” sarah said; “i’m not ready to talk yet.”

“hurry, that’s a good child—i want to give solomon a romp before dark. solomon plays hide and seek beautifully.”

later, roasting chestnuts before the fire in the sitting-room, blue bonnet’s thoughts went back to that missionary box. “do you only put clothes in it, sarah?” she asked.

“put clothes in what, blue bonnet? a moment ago you were talking of examinations.”

“the box.”

“mostly; sometimes there are other things—toys and books.”

“i wish i could give something for this one. i’d like to send something to—texas.”

sarah turned eagerly. “i wish you could; this isn’t quite as satis—as complete as we would like. there’s a girl out there about our age—and they’re so poor, blue bonnet.”

blue bonnet was on her feet. “we’ll go right upstairs and ransack.”

“blue bonnet!” sarah’s voice was full of shocked surprise.

148 “que asco! there, sarah, you’ve made me say that. you didn’t suppose i meant anybody’s things but my own? i’ve got heaps of ribbons and pretty collars that i don’t need.”

blue bonnet led the way upstairs to her own room, turning on the light, throwing open her bureau drawers with an impetuosity that quite took sarah’s breath away.

she soon had a little pile of ribbons, laces, and the odds and ends of finery that girls love, in the center of her bed.

“oh, blue bonnet,” sarah asked, “can you really spare all these?”

“of course; there’ll be just so much less to take care of, and i can get more. but if i couldn’t, i shouldn’t mind. sarah, do you suppose she wears gloves?”

“why, of course!”

“then i’m going to send all mine but two pairs—i hate to wear gloves! i’d send them all, only i suppose aunt lucinda would make me buy more—for church.”

“blue bonnet!”

“sarah blake, if you’re going to sit there and blue bonnet me—in a way that means ‘elizabeth’—you can go downstairs until i get this bundle made up. it’ll save a lot of trouble—packing this stuff off. you see, aunt lucinda’s motto149 is—‘a box for everything and everything in its box.’”

sarah was smoothing out the soft bright ribbons almost affectionately; new ribbons were a luxury at the parsonage. “how fond you are of red, blue bonnet!”

“yes,” the girl said, “uncle cliff liked me to wear it. i wonder,” she looked up laughingly, “if that is one reason i like kitty. her hair is—reddish!”

“it isn’t as red as it used to be,” sarah said. “blue bonnet, she’ll be so pleased with these—that girl out in texas.”

blue bonnet looked at the little collection with dissatisfied eyes. “sarah,—i’m going to send—my red dress!”

“blue bonnet!”

“i am. maybe it’ll fit. if it doesn’t, i reckon it can be altered, or done something to.”

“blue bonnet—that’s an entirely new dress!”

“i know—i was going to wear it on sunday for the first time. but doesn’t that make it all the better? i shouldn’t like wearing other people’s dresses.” blue bonnet went to her closet, coming back with the dress over her arm, a simple shirtwaist suit in some soft woollen goods. “isn’t it the loveliest shade, sarah? you can’t deny that this is useful and pretty too. see, the150 lace is all in the neck. it’s quite the prettiest of all my dresses.”

“but blue bonnet—”

blue bonnet moved impatiently. “you are the but-eriest set here in woodford! out on the ranch i did what i wanted to, when i wanted to,—that is, generally,—without all these everlasting buts. i just hate the word ‘but.’”

“still,” sarah held her ground determinedly, “i don’t think you ought to send that dress without asking your grandmother if you may.”

“it isn’t grandmother’s dress! and if i did wait the box would be gone.—uncle cliff wouldn’t care.”

“there’ll be more boxes.”

“and more dresses! and this dress is going in this box—straight to texas.”

“well,” sarah said uncertainly,—“oh, blue bonnet, let me fold it!”

“wait a moment.” blue bonnet had gone over to her upper drawer; in its depleted condition, it was comparatively easy to find her little purse. “it isn’t as empty as it might be, nor as full as i wish it were,” she laughed. next she went to her desk, where she wrote on a scrap of paper,—-“from a texas blue bonnet.” the paper was slipped into the purse, the purse into the pocket of the dress. “i’m mighty glad now i insisted on a pocket in all my dresses,” she said. “now, i151 reckon, sarah, we’ll have to go to bed—i promised aunt lucinda to be in on time.”

sarah was standing on the hearthrug. “blue bonnet,” she said, “you make me dizzy. you do the oddest, nicest things—just as if they weren’t anything at all!”

blue bonnet laughed. “sarah,” and sarah was quick to recognize the tone, “i should like to have you analyze that sentence.”

sarah had begun to take off collar and hair-ribbon. “it must be nice, having a room to yourself. this is quite the prettiest room i’ve ever seen.”

“grandmother arranged it for me—wasn’t it dear of her! i brought some of the mexican blankets and things with me. it’s a great deal prettier than my room at home—i didn’t think much about such things there; i’m going to after i go back. but, sarah, i think it would be perfectly lovely, sharing one’s room.”

“you have everything you want, don’t you?” sarah said, a note of something a little like envy in her voice. there were so many things sarah could not help wanting, and could not have.

blue bonnet was brushing her hair out; she looked up, her eyes dark with sudden feeling. “i haven’t any—every other girl in our set—has a father and mother.”

the next morning, blue bonnet’s contribution152 was left at the parsonage,—sarah promising that it should go in the box; also that it should go unopened.

blue bonnet thought about it a good deal that morning; it gave her a warm glow of satisfaction to feel that she had helped in the making of that texas box. after this, she meant to send something in every box, though, no matter where its destination.

and when miss rankin asked her the principal products of brazil, blue bonnet, who was trying to imagine what that other texas girl was like, answered, “missionary boxes.”

there was an irrepressible murmur of amusement. “elizabeth!” miss rankin exclaimed, “what are you thinking of?”

“missionary boxes, miss rankin,” the girl answered.

miss rankin rapped sharply for order. “elizabeth—”

“i was, truly,” blue bonnet said earnestly. “they were getting one ready at the parsonage yesterday afternoon, and i got to thinking about it, and how nice they were; but i’ll tell you the products of brazil now, if i may, miss rankin?”

“very well,” the teacher answered; “after this try to keep those wandering thoughts of yours on the subject in hand.”

153 “yes, miss rankin,” blue bonnet answered.

“blue bonnet, how could you!” sarah exclaimed, the moment the bell rang for morning recess.

“blue bonnet, you duck!” kitty added. “for once a geography lesson was interesting,—only, i’d like to see one of the rest of us dare to answer like that!”

“but it was so,” blue bonnet insisted. “sarah, do you suppose it’s on its way by now?”

“it’s going on the noon train,” sarah answered.

grandmother and aunt lucinda would not be back until early afternoon, so blue bonnet had coaxed katy, the cook, into putting up some lunch for her to take to school. kitty and debby had brought theirs, and the three had a delightful time together in one corner of the almost empty classroom.

going home from school that afternoon, with every step bringing her nearer to her grandmother and her aunt, blue bonnet’s growing doubts as to how the news of her contribution to the sewing society’s box would be received grew very rapidly indeed. she went up the path to the house at a much slower pace than usual, answering solomon’s rush of welcome rather soberly. if only aunt lucinda would be out—grandmother was so much more—reasonable. but no, there they both sat, each at her accustomed window. blue154 bonnet began to think that missionary boxes like a good many other things—had their objectionable side.

“and how did you and sarah manage last night?” miss clyde asked, as blue bonnet sat down on the end of the lounge nearest grandmother.

blue bonnet’s greeting had been rather subdued. there was the suspicion of a smile about the corners of mrs. clyde’s mouth—sarah had been chosen for the express purpose of keeping blue bonnet out of mischief; but—unless all signs failed—

“we got on nicely,” blue bonnet answered slowly. “grandmother, i gave my red dress to the missionary box.”

“elizabeth!” miss clyde exclaimed.

“it was going to texas—and sarah said they were so poor—and that there was a girl about my age. i did want to send something worth while—and i put my purse in the pocket.”

“what else did you send?” miss clyde asked, as blue bonnet ended.

“only some ribbons, and gloves, and little things—i had such a lot. i’ll go without a red dress all winter, if you like, aunt lucinda.”

“what end would that serve, elizabeth?”

“i don’t know,” blue bonnet answered; “i thought maybe you’d think i ought to.”

155 miss clyde took several rather impatient stitches. it was grandmother who spoke next.

“blue bonnet,” she said, “i can understand how you came to do this; but as long as you are under our care, it would be better for you to consult either your aunt or myself before giving away any of your clothes. you are too young to give indiscriminately, or on your own responsibility. some day, you will probably have it in your power to give freely and generously; but, dear, you must learn how to use that power to the best advantage.”

“yes, grandmother,” blue bonnet answered soberly. she wished aunt lucinda wouldn’t sit there looking so—displeased; it was almost as bad as being scolded. blue bonnet drew a long breath. life in woodford was so complicated. if she’d given all her dresses away, when she was at home, uncle cliff wouldn’t have been vexed.

mrs. clyde saw the wistful look in the girl’s eyes. “after all, dear,” she said gently, “it was a kind impulse; and somewhere out in that beloved texas of yours is a girl whose winter will be much brighter because of it. and now for your walk—not too long a one.”

“i’ll remember, grandmother,” blue bonnet said.

“mother,” miss clyde exclaimed, the moment blue bonnet had gone, “do you mean to spoil the girl utterly?”

156 “i’m not afraid,” mrs. clyde answered; “hers is too sweet a nature. she has all her mother’s impulsive generosity—which must be directed, not repressed.”

when blue bonnet came back an hour later, she found miss clyde alone in the sitting-room.

“have you had a pleasant walk, blue bonnet?” her aunt asked.

the girl came forward eagerly. “very, aunt lucinda; and please, the girls want me to go for a long walk to-morrow afternoon—’way up to the old ‘hunters’ cabin.’ may i?”

“is that standing yet? i used to go up there when i was a girl.”

“may i go, aunt lucinda?”

“why, yes, blue bonnet,” aunt lucinda answered.

there was distinct interrogation in sarah’s eyes when she and blue bonnet met the next afternoon. blue bonnet ignored it completely; to all intents and purposes, she had never heard of a missionary box.

debby and kitty made up the rest of the party, the other three having been unable to come. it was a long walk—the latter half principally a climb—before they reached the little disused cabin standing on a bit of woodland clearing, far up on one of the hills back of woodford.

157 it was a mild day, with a soft haze blurring the view from the high point on which the cabin stood; but the four girls sitting on an old log before the door were not greatly disappointed. they had come for the mere pleasure of the coming; and now they rested, contentedly enjoying the apples which blue bonnet had supplied—it being her week to provide the refreshments, which were always a part of these saturday afternoon tramps.

“apples are all very well,” kitty remarked, taking a second one, “but—”

“i know you’d rather have candy,” blue bonnet said, her face reddening; “but i hadn’t any money—i sha’n’t have any before the first of the month. i’ll treat twice running then, to make up. aunt lucinda won’t let me borrow; i—she said so this morning.”

“you’ve spent all your allowance for this month?” kitty cried.

“i’ve—used it. there’s alec.” blue bonnet pointed to the winding road down below. alec was coming towards them on victor.

“he hasn’t seen us yet,” debby said; “doesn’t he look tired?”

“it’s too long a ride for him—it’s a great deal longer by the road,” kitty declared. “alec isn’t strong, but he won’t give in. papa says his will power is wonderful.”

alec had seen them now. presently he came158 round the curve, throwing himself off his horse with an involuntary sigh of weariness. “what are you all doing up here—and where are the rest of you?” he asked.

“having a good time,” blue bonnet told him.

“why didn’t you choose a warmer spot?” alec was shivering.

sarah jumped up. “let’s go inside and make a fire—the chimney’s all right.”

they gathered dried wood and underbrush, alec produced matches, and they soon had a bright fire roaring and leaping in the fireplace, that took up nearly all of one side of the little cabin.

sitting on the floor before it in a semi-circle, they told stories in turn, beginning with sarah.

suddenly alec, who had been strangely silent for some moments, keeled quietly over in a little heap.

in a moment sarah, kneeling beside him, had lowered him gently, until his head rested on the cabin floor. “it’s only a faint,” she said, her hand on his wrist; “he’s overtired, and his heart isn’t very strong. but i think he ought to have a doctor. where could we catch your father, kitty?”

“he was going out on the mill road—he’s due at nesbit’s farm about five.”

“it’s nearly five now,” debby said, looking at her watch.

159 “i’ll go right over there,” kitty offered; “i’ll be as quick as possible, but it’s a rough road.”

“if only one of you could ride over—on victor?” sarah said anxiously. “oh, blue bonnet, you must ride—all western girls do, don’t they? ride all sorts of horses?”

“yes, i ride,” blue bonnet answered; would the others see how she was trembling?

“victor goes like the wind,” debby said.

there was a moment’s silence. to blue bonnet, it seemed as if she had been standing there in wretched indecision for hours. and yet she knew it was only a moment before she heard herself saying quietly, “of course, i’ll go, sarah.”

kitty and debby went out with her to where victor stood tied; he whinnied with pleasure at sight of them.

“you are sure you can ride him?” debby asked. “he’s pretty wild.”

blue bonnet did not answer; she was stroking victor’s head with fingers that would tremble.

“isn’t it good you’re not afraid?” kitty said excitedly. “i’d be frightened to death.”

“afraid!” blue bonnet wondered if anyone had ever known what fear was—as she knew it at that moment. “how shall i get to nesbit’s?” she asked.

and kitty told her.

160 then came victor’s share in the discussion. would he let her mount?

decidedly, it appeared that he would not. blue bonnet breathed a little easier. if he would not let her mount, she could not be to blame—not even in her own eyes.

then, in a moment, all the girl’s fighting blood was up,—and she knew that she meant to win the struggle.

“victor,” she whispered, her hand on the horse’s glossy neck, “victor, fight with me, not against me, and help me to be a victor, too.”

perhaps the horse understood; perhaps there was something magical in the touch of blue bonnet’s fingers, for suddenly he stood quite still.

the next moment blue bonnet was in the saddle and they were off.