)
"Did you ever notice that she has a particularly pretty hand and arm?"
proceeded Zack, somewhat evasively. "I'm rather a judge of these things
myself; and of all the other girls I ever saw--"
"Never mind about other girls," said Mrs. Blyth. "Tell me what you mean
to give Madonna."
("Two for his heels," cried Mrs. Peckover, turning up a knave with
great glee.)
"I mean to give her a Bracelet," said Zack.
Valentine looked up quickly from the card table.
("Play, please sir," said Mrs. Peckover; "little Mary's waiting for
you.")
"Well, Zack," rejoined Mrs. Blyth, "your idea of returning a present
only errs on the side of generosity. I should recommend something less
costly. Don't you know that it's one of Madonna's oddities not to care
about jewelry? She might have bought herself a bracelet long ago, out
of her own savings, if trinkets had been things to tempt her."
"Wait a bit, Mrs. Blyth," said Zack, "you haven't heard the best of my
notion yet: all the pith and marrow of it has got to come. The bracelet
I mean to give her is one that she will prize to the day of her death,
or she's not the affectionate, warm-hearted girl I take her for. What
do you think of a bracelet that reminds her of you and Valentine, and
jolly old Peck there--and a little of me, too, which I hope won't make
her think the worse of it.
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