"_That_ a May-basket!" exclaimed Abby, hardly able to restrain the
tears of disappointment which started to her eyes.

"_Si, signorita_," replied the man.

Her frown disappeared. It was certainly very nice to be addressed by
so high-sounding a title. She wished she could get Delia to call her
_signorita_. But no; she felt sure that Delia never would.

"Pshaw! It's only a joke!" said Larry, after a moment. "Somebody
thinks this is April-fool Day, I guess."

"Have patience for a leetle minute, please," said the man, as he cast
away the packing bit by bit. The children watched him with eager
interest. By and by he took out a little bunch of lilies of the
valley, which he handed to Abby with a low bow. Next he came to
something shrouded in fold after fold of tissue-paper.

"And here is the fairest lily of them all," he said, in his poetic
Italian fashion.

"What can it be, mother?" asked the little girl, wonderingly.

Mrs. Clayton smiled. "It is from Sartoris', the fine art store where
you saw the beautiful pictures last week; that is all I know about it,"
she replied.

The man carefully placed the mysterious object on the table.

"It is some kind of a vase or an image," declared Larry.