'From New York City,' said he.
'Wall, of all things!' said Uncle Eb, looking over his spectacles from one to another.
'It's from the Livingstone boy,' said Mrs Brower. 'I've heard he's the son of a rich man.'
''Fraid he took a great fancy t' Hope,' said David.
'Father,' said the girl, you've no right to say that. I'm sure he never cared a straw for me.'
'I don't think we ought to keep it,' said Mrs Brower, looking up thoughtfully.
'Shucks and shavin's!' said Uncle Eb. 'Ye don't know but what I had it sent myself.'
Hope went over and put her arms around his neck.
'Did you, Uncle Eb?' she asked. 'Now you tell me the truth, Uncle Eb.'
'Wouldn't say 't I did,' he answered, 'but I don' want 'a see ye go sendin' uv it back. Ye dunno who sent it.'