She was a southern girl as well as
Flora, but she was sorry for the old colored woman.
"Well, I do wish we could keep the pickaninnies until they grow up. It
seems a shame when they feel so bad to be sold off to strangers. And
some of them are abused too," she said.
"You talk as if they felt just the same as we do, and that's silly,"
Flora declared; "but Philip talks just the same. He says he is going to
give Dinkie her freedom," and she turned toward the two baskets which
Mammy had set down with such care near Molly and Polly.
"I brought my lace-work, and Mother has fixed a cushion for you, Sylvia,
and one for Grace, too. See! The pattern is begun on each one, and I
will give you both lessons until you know as much as I do." As Flora
talked she had opened the smaller basket and taken out two square boxes
and handed one to each of her friends.
"Open them," she said, nodding smilingly.
The box which she handed to Sylvia was covered with plaited blue silk.
It had a narrow edge of gilt braid around the cover. Grace's box was
covered with yellow silk, but the boxes were of the same size.
As Sylvia and Grace lifted the covers they smiled and exclaimed happily.
The lace cushion lay inside, and in dainty little pockets on each side
of the boxes were the delicate threads and materials for the lace. A
thimble of gold, with "Sylvia from Flora" engraved around its rim, was
in Sylvia's box, and one exactly like it was in Grace's box.
"Oh, Flora Hayes! This is the most beautiful present that ever was!"
declared Sylvia; and Grace, holding the box with both hands, was hopping
up and down saying over and over: "Flora! You are just like the Golden
Princess in a fairy story who gives people what they want most.
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