or purple; and that left only the soft delicate colours--palepink and pale blue and very pale lilac. There were pretty white ribbonstoo, with very fine little checks and spots over them, which she saidwould be very nice.
So then Mary found it easier, and she chose four sets--blue, with alittle white line down the edge; and white, with a pink check over it;and another, with tiny blue spots, and one of the pale pinky lilac. Itwas like wild geranium colour, mamma said, and as Mary did not know whatthat flower was, mamma promised to look for one in the fields to showher.
Then there came the choosing of Mary's sashes. Mamma got two, and Marywas quite pleased, for she saw that mamma was the best chooser afterall. One was pale blue, very wide, and with a white line down the side.It was just "like the mamma of _Dolly's_ blue ribbon," Mary said, andthe other was all pink, very pretty pale pink. Mary did not like itquite so well, but still she felt sure it would look nice, or else mamma"wouldn't have chosened it."
It would take too long to tell you about all the things mamma bought.After she had finished at the draper's she went to the shoemaker's andgot boots for the boys and slippers for Mary, and dear sweet little bluesilk shoes for Dolly. They were to be her very best ones, to match herblue ribbons. Mary was so pleased that her mamma got them.
After that came the great thing of all--that was the perambulator.There was a man in that town who made pony-carriages, and he madeperambulators too. Mamma took Mary into a large room which was allglass at the front, and was quite filled with pony-carriages. They didlook so shiny and nice--some of them were wicker, and some were made ofwood like big carriages. Mary would have liked to get into them all,one after the other, to see which was the most comfortable, and shecould not help thinking how very nice it would be to be a pony-carriageman's little girl. What lovely games she and Leigh and Artie could havein this big room! It would be even nicer than having a draper's shop.She did not know that carriage-builders' children and drapers' childrenare not allowed to play with their fathers' carriages and ribbons anymore than she and her brothers would be allowed to pull about the booksin the library, or to gather all the fruit and flowers in the garden.
They passed through the big room with the glass front to a smaller onebehind, where there were a good many perambulators. The man who hadshown them in explained to Mary's mamma about the different kinds andtold her the prices; and mamma chose three which she made the man drawout by themselves in front of all the others.
"It must be one of those," she said; "I want a really good one, butstill rather plain and strong, as it is for the country roads."
Mary thought to herself what a good way of choosing mamma had; it makeschoosing so much easier if you put away the things that _won't_ do. Andwhile she was thinking this, mamma told her she wanted her to get intothe perambulator standing next, and say if it was comfortable.
"I will lift her in," she said to the man. "It's quite strong enough, Isuppose?"
"Oh, dear, yes, ma'am!" he answered. "It could bear a child twice thislittle lady's weight. The springs are fust-rate."
It was very comfortable, and when Mary jigged up and down a littlegently, it felt quite "dancey," she said.
"It's the springs," the man repeated; "they're fust-rate."
Mary wondered what "fust-rate" meant. She thought she would ask hermamma. Then she was lifted into the next perambulator--the man liftedher in. He meant to be quite kind, but Mary did not like it, and whenat last she found herself on the floor again she stroked down her skirtsand gave herself a little shake. Mamma saw that she did not like it,but afterwards she told Mary that sometimes it is best to hide that youdo not like things, when they are done out of kindness.
"It didn't matter to-day," said mamma, "for the man was busy talking tome and he didn't see you shaking yourself; but you must remember foranother time."
Mary felt very sorry. She did not forget what her mamma said. Evenwhen she grew to be a big girl she remembered about the man meaning tobe kind, and how glad she was he had not seen her shake herself.
The other perambulators were not quite as wide as the first one. Marysaid they felt rather squeezy, so mamma fixed on the first one. But itcould not be sent home at once because the lining had to be changed. Itwas brown, and the linings of mamma's victoria and pony-carriage weredark red, and mamma liked Dolly's carriage to match. So the manpromised it should be ready in two or three days; but Mary looked at ita great deal, because she knew Leigh and Artie would want to knowexactly what it was like.
After that they went to the grocer's, but mamma did not stay long there,and then they went to the toy-shop to get a rattle for baby and reinsfor Leigh. But neither mamma nor Mary liked the reins much. There weresome of red braid, but they were too common, and the leather ones didnot seem strong, and they were not made of the right sort of leather;Mary was quite distressed.
"What shall we do?" she said. "Leigh will be so disappointed." Shesaid the word quite right, but it took her a good while.
Then mamma had a capital thought.
"I know," she said. "We'll go to the saddler's. Even if he hasn't gotany toy-reins ready he can easily make them."
And fancy--was not it lucky?--the saddler had a pair quite ready--beauties, just like what Leigh wanted. Mamma was so pleased, and so wasMary; though I do not think mamma would have been quite so pleased ifshe had known what Leigh had in his head about the reins. Then mammawent to the confectioner's, where she bought some very nice little cakesfor Mary to take home for the nursery tea, and, as she thought Marylooked a little tired and must be beginning to feel hungry, she askedfor a glass of milk for her and a bun, and then she put Mary on a chairclose up to the counter, where she could reach the milk. And then, justas she was going to pay for what she had bought, poor mamma started.
"Oh, dear!" she said, "where is my little bag with my purse in it? Imust have left it somewhere; I was carrying so many parcels."
"Mamma, dear," said Mary, "you had it at the reins' shop. I sawed it inyour hand."
"Oh, I'm so glad!" said mamma. "Then it'll be all right. I'll run backfor it. You finish your milk and bun, dear, and I will come for you asquickly as I can."
Mary did not quite like waiting alone, but she did not want to troubleher mother, so she said, "Very well, mamma dear."
Her milk and bun did not take long to finish, but she sat on still onthe high chair, partly because she thought her mamma would look for herthere, partly because she could not get down alone, and she was too shyto ask to be lifted off. But mamma did not come as quickly as Maryhoped, though the time seemed longer to her than it really was.
In a few minutes she heard the door open, and she looked up gladly,thinking it was her mamma; but it was not. Instead of mamma in came arather fat lady, with two boys and a girl. The lady had a red face, andthey all talked very loudly.
"Now, what will you have, my loveys?" said the lady. "Puffs,cheesecakes, macaroons?"
The three children pushed up to the counter and began helpingthemselves. It was not a large shop, and they crushed against Mary, whowas growing very uncomfortable.
"Dear, dear," said the fat lady, "I am 'ot!" and she fanned herself withher handkerchief. "Haven't you got a chair for me?"
The shop-woman looked at the girl who had seated herself on the onlychair besides Mary's one.
"I dare say Miss isn't tired," she said; "won't you give the lady yourchair?"
But the girl would not move.
"No," she said; "that child isn't eating anything. She can give herchair. Put her down, Fred."
And the bigger of the boys lifted Mary roughly down from her perchbefore the shop-woman could interfere, and then they all burst outlaughing, and Mary, whose face had been getting whiter and whiter,rushed to the open door and ran with all her might down the street.
CHAPTER ELEVEN.
NURSERY TEA.
I dare say it was silly of Mary to be so frightened; but then, you know,she was only a very little girl, and she was not u
sed to rude or roughways.
"Mamma, mamma!" she cried as she ran along. And she did not even thinkor know which way she was going. But the town was not a big one, notlike London, where her papa had been left alone in the toy-shop--and thestreet was quiet. Several people noticed the prettily-dressed littlegirl running so fast, the tears rolling down her face.
"She's lost her way, poor dear," said one woman, standing at the door ofa greengrocer's shop.
"She's been bitten by a dog," said another.
But nobody did anything till, luckily, Mary flew past the draper's whereshe had been with her mamma;