"I never met him nowhar. I seed him one Sunday, when he walked home with you from church, and I was at the up-stairs window, and once through the dinin'-room door when he was here to supper, and once—through the parlor window."
"Peeping! Rachel! If he had seen you, he would not think as highly of your manners, as you do of his."
"Peeping! Law! Miss Ida, them was sly glimpses, permiscuous-like, you know. He warn't a-gwine to catch me."
A longer inspection of the ring. There was no blush this time, but the smile was happier. The motive was then as pure as the action was generous. The little shower had purified the murky atmosphere. This token of remembrance, at a moment when she believed herself forgotten, was none the less dear that the donor was a poor slave. It was the fruit of self-denying affection; and had no sooner clasped her finger, than it acted as the Open Sesame to a store-house of untold riches. "It has taught me more than one lesson," she murmured.
Rachel was garrulously happy.
"I do-clar, Miss Ida, you've been gettin' prettier ever since I come in;" said she, standing off to survey the effect of her toilette. "I hope thar'll be a crowd at Mars' John's. Is it a dinin'-day?"
"No—a family party."
"That's a pity! I 'spect that's another present! It never rains but it pours."
The footman said Mr. Dana was below. Charley waited to escort her to his brother's; and Ida began to realise, as he paid the compliments of the season, in a style, eminently "Char-leyish,"—that Christmas had indeed come.
"Christmas gift! Christmas gift! cousin Ida," shouted two infantine voices; and Charley the less, and Elle scampered down the porch-steps to salute her. "Now mamma! now for the tree! She is here!"