"Oh, what a beautiful box this is," continued Rosa, "and, oh, look here," as she displayed the thimble inside. "Who can this be for?"
"Oh, that's for Lisita."
"For me," I cried, jubilantly, "oh, Paula! So you remembered that I have just lost my thimble."
"Two pencils," announced my father, undoing another small paper package.
"One of them is for Rosa and the other is for Louis," said Paula simply.
"My poor dear child," exclaimed Rosa. "What on earth are we going to do with you! Here's another package, but it appears so fragile that you'd better open it yourself."
"No, no; that's for uncle. Let him open it."
My father cut the cord that held the package. Paula hardly dared to raise her eyes, as he took the beautiful cup with its blue and gold ornamentation and took it over to the fading light, in order to examine it more carefully.
"I don't know whether I should be angry or content," he said, with a dry smile.
"Better be content, uncle," said Paula appealingly.