FullReads

II

FORGET-ME-NOTS

“Oh, mamma, I am so relieved that the box has come at last! If it had not, I do believe I should have died of disappointment,” cried pretty Belle, five years later, on the morning before her eighteenth birthday.

“It would have been a serious disappointment, darling; for I had sot my heart on your wearing my gift to-morrow night, and when the steamers kept coming in without my trunk from Paris, I was very anxious. I hope you will like it.”

“Dear mamma, I know I shall like it; your taste is so good and you know what suits me so well. Make haste, Marie; I’m dying to see it,” said Belle, dancing about the great trunk, as the maid carefully unfolded tissue papers and muslin wrappers.

A young girl’s first ball-dress is a grand affair,–in her eyes, at least; and Belle soon stopped dancing, to stand with clasped hands, eager eyes and parted lips before the snowy pile of illusion that was at last daintily lifted out upon the bed. Then, as Marie displayed its loveliness, little cries of delight were heard, and when the whole delicate dress was arranged to the best effect she threw herself upon her mother’s neck and actually cried with pleasure.

“Mamma, it is too lovely I and you are very kind to do so much for me. How shall I ever thank you?”

“By putting it right on to see if it fits; and when you wear it look your happiest, that I may be proud of my pretty daughter.”

Mamma got no further, for Marie uttered a French shriek, wrung her hands, and then began to burrow wildly in the trunk and among the papers, crying distractedly:

“Great Heavens, madame! the wreath has been forgotten! What an affliction! Mademoiselle’s enchanting toilette is destroyed without the wreath, and nowhere do I find it.”

In vain they searched; in vain Marie wailed and Belle declared it must be somewhere; no wreath appeared. It was duly set down in the bill, and a fine sum charged for a head-dress to match the dainty forget-me-nots that looped the fleecy skirts and ornamented the bosom of the dress. It had evidently been forgotten; and mamma despatched Marie at once to try and match the flowers, for Belle would not hear of any other decoration for her beautiful blonde hair.

The dress fitted to a charm, and was pronounced by all beholders the loveliest thing ever seen. Nothing was wanted but the wreath to make it quite perfect, and when Marie returned, after a long search, with no forget-me-nots, Belle was in despair.

“Wear natural ones,” suggested a sympathizing friend.

But another hunt among greenhouses was as fruitless as that among the milliners’ rooms. No forget-me-nots could be found, and Marie fell exhausted into a chair, desolated at what she felt to be an awful calamity.

“Let me have the carriage, and I’ll ransack the city till I find some,” cried Belle, growing more resolute with each failure.

Marnma was deep in preparations for the ball, and could not help her afflicted daughter, though she was much disappointed at the mishap. So Belle drove off, resolved to have her flowers whether there were any or not.

Any one who has ever tried to match a ribbon, find a certain fabric, or get anything done in a hurry, knows what a wearisome task it sometimes is, and can imagine Belle’s state of mind after repeated disappointments. She was about to give up in despair, when some one suggested that perhaps the Frenchwoman, Estelle Valnor, might make the desired wreath, if there was time.

Away drove Belle, and, on entering the room, gave a sigh of satisfaction, for a whole boxful of the loveliest forget-me-nots stood upon the table. As fast as possible, she told her tale and demanded the flowers, no matter what the price might be. Imagine her feelings when the Frenchwoman, with a shrug, announced that it was impossible to give mademoiselle a single spray. All were engaged to trim a bridesmaid’s dress, and must be sent away at once.