more of the gifts which her foster-father was constantly lavishing upon
her. He smiled down at her beaming face and dancing eyes, and then
taking out his pocket-knife he cut the cords and removed the covers of
the boxes. As the wrappings fell away, there was a shimmer of dazzling
tissues, silver and gold.

"Oh! oh!" she cried.

"Just a few pretty trifles, my dear," he said. "You like them?"

"Like them!"

Repeating his words she sprang up, and running round the candle-stand,
stood on the very tips of her toes so that she might throw her arms
about his neck. He bent his head to meet her upturned face, and if ever
tenderness shone in a man's pale, grave face, it shone then in his. If
ever love--pure and unselfish--beamed from a man's eyes, it was beaming
now from those looking down in the girl's face. His tender gaze
followed her fondly as she went back to the candle-stand and began to
examine each article again more than once and with lingering and growing
delight. She found new beauties every moment, and pointed them out to
the three men and the boy who were now gathered around her. She called
the ladies also, over and over, but they did not come, although they
cast many glances at the candle-stand.

Miss Penelope was engaged in making the coffee for supper; and while she
did not consider the making of the coffee for supper quite so vital a
matter as the making of the coffee for breakfast, she still could not
think of leaving the hearth under any inducement so long as the
coffee-pot sat on its trivet above the glowing coals. The widow Broadnax