"To Melchester."
"To Melchester! You don't mean to say you've walked there and back in this blazing sun?"
"Yes, I have. I wanted to get something."
"What?"
The boy rose from his chair, and came round to the head of the table.
"That's it," he said, producing a little screw of tissue paper from his pocket. "It's for you. It's only a cheap, common thing, but I hadn't any more money."
The paper was unrolled, and out came a little silver locket.
"I didn't want the others to see—you mustn't ever let any one know. There's a bit of my hair inside."
"Now, then, don't stay there guzzling tea all night!" came Valentine's voice through the open window.
"But, my dear boy, whatever made you spend your money in giving me such a pretty present?"