“It’s a weddin’ present,” exclaimed Mrs. Pogram, throwing back her shawl in the excitement of the moment, and thanking the lucky star which had made her keep on from the market to the Salter cottage.
Tissue paper began to come into view.
Hiram looked at Betsy. “I guess I’ve gone as far as I darst,” he said.
Color came into her cheeks as she lifted out package after package and laid them on the table. Mrs. Pogram rocked violently.
Captain Salter lifted away the wooden case and packing.
An envelope caught Betsy’s eye. She opened it and read the card within.
“O Hiram!” she exclaimed brokenly. “It’s Mr. Irving!”
“Irvin’ Bruce,” cried Mrs. Pogram, raising herself in her chair and dropping back again.
Betsy gave the card to her husband.
He read on it: “To dear Betsy, with her boy’s love.”