They lingered at the table, eating slowly, because there was so much talking to be done—such pleasant, cheerful chat.
Then came the opening of Mildred's trunk, and the distribution of the purchases she had been commissioned to make, and of her own modest gifts to father, mother, brothers, and sisters, and the more expensive ones from Aunt Wealthy and the Dinsmore relatives. Of these last, little Elsie's were by far the most costly and valuable.
The children were wild with delight, the parents quietly happy in their pleasure, and gratified with the remembrances to themselves.
Mildred exhibited her watch and chain, calling forth exclamations of intense admiration and hearty congratulations.
"O sister Milly, how lovely!" cried Zillah; "I never saw anything so beautiful, and I'm so glad you have it! I don't believe there's another lady in town who has a gold watch."
"No, I presume not," returned Mildred, gazing down upon it with a pleased, but rather absent look, "and it is extremely pretty; yet not half so beautiful as the dear little giver." And then she launched out into the warmest of eulogies upon little Elsie—her loveliness of both person and disposition.
"She must have loads of money to buy you that splendid watch, and all these things for the rest of us," remarked Cyril.
"Yes, indeed! I'd like to be in her place," said Ada.
"I wouldn't," said Mildred; "and I don't believe you would, Ada, if you quite understood her position."
"Why?" the children asked, clustering close about their sister, with looks of surprise and eager interest; "tell us why. It must be nice to be so rich; to own houses and lands, and all sorts of things."