New Name by Grace Livingston Hill Read Free Book Online Page B

“Looks as if she must be a relative or something. Did anybody get her name?”
    “The address on the box was Elizabeth Chapparelle,” contributed a pale little errand girl who had stood by listening.
    “Elizabeth!” said the thoughtful one. “She looked like an Elizabeth.”
    “But if they weren’t for her, that wouldn’t have been her name,” persisted the fat one.
    “I thought I heard him call her Bessie once,” said the little errand girl.
    “Then he was buying for one of his old girls who is going to be married,” suggested the slim one contemptuously. “Probably this girl is a friend of them both.”
    “Hush! Madame is coming! Which one did he take? The Lanvin green?”
    “Both. He told Madame to send them both! Yes, Madame, I’m coming!”
    A boy in a mulberry uniform with silver buttons entered.
    “Say, Lena, take that to Madame, and tell her there’s a mistake. The folks say they don’t know anything about it.”
    Lena, the pale little errand girl, took the heavy box and walked slowly off to find Madame, studying the address on the box as she went.
    “Why!” She paused by the thoughtful-eyed woman. “It’s her. It’s that girl!” Madame appeared suddenly with a frown.
    “What’s this, Lena? How many times have I told you not to stop to talk? Where are you carrying that box?”
    “Thomas says there’s a mistake in the address. The folks don’t know anything about it.”
    “Where is Thomas? Send him to me. Here, Thomas. What’s the matter? Couldn’t you find the house? The address is perfectly plain.”
    “Sure, I found the house, Madame, but they wouldn’t take it in. They said they didn’t know anything about it. It wasn’t theirs.”
    “Did they say Miss Chapparelle didn’t live there? Who came to the door?”
    “An old woman with white hair. Yes, she said Miss Chapparelle lived there. She said she was her daughter, but that package didn’t belong to her. She said she never bought anything at this place.”
    “Well, you can take it right back,” said Madame sharply. “Tell the woman the young lady knows all about it. Tell her it will explain itself when the young lady opens it. There’s a card inside. And Thomas,” she added, hurrying after him as he slid away to the door and speaking in a lower voice, “Thomas, you leave it there no matter what she says. It’s all paid for, and I’m not going to be bothered this way. You’re to leave it no matter what she says, you understand?”
    “Sure, Madame, I understand. I’ll leave it.”
    The neat little delivery car, with its one word, G REVET’S , in silver script on a mulberry background, slid away on its well-oiled wheels, and the service persons in their black satin straight frocks turned their black satin bobbed heads and looked meaningfully at one another with glances that said eagerly: “I told you so. That girl was different!” and Madame looked thoughtfully out of her side window into the blank brick wall of the next building and wondered how this was going to turn out. She did not want to have those expensive outfits returned, and she could not afford to anger young Van Rensselaer; he was too good a customer. Hehad expected her to carry out his instructions. It might be that she would have to go herself to explain the matter. Anyone could see that girl was too unsophisticated to understand. Her mother would probably be worse. She would have notions. Madame had had a mother once herself, so long ago she had forgotten many of her precepts, but she could understand. Madame was clever. This was going to be a case requiring clever action. But Madame was counting much upon Thomas. Thomas, too, could be clever on occasion. That was why he wore the silver buttons on the mulberry uniform and earned a good salary. Thomas knew that his silver buttons depended on his getting things across when Madame spoke to him as she had just done, and Madame believed Thomas would get this across.
    In the early dusk of the evening