“Of course you must! Your first present! It is quite an event, and just what I should have expected, that it should come from Arthur. Dear lad, always so thoughtful!” murmured Mrs Asplin fondly. “Open it on the table, and we will sit round and watch. Come, Miss Rollo, sit by me. Perhaps you are in the secret already, and know what it is?”
“No, we don’t know. We inquired, but he wouldn’t tell us anything about it.”
“But it’s probably salt-cellars! Men have so little imagination. They always take refuge in salt-cellars!”
This from Peggy, while Esther looked polite and murmured:
“Most useful, I’m sure. Nothing more so!” and Mellicent grimaced vigorously.
“Uninteresting, I call it! Now joolery is far nicer. I wish it were joolery, but I’m afraid it’s too big. Open it, do! Cut the string, and don’t fumble all day at one knot! The professor will buy you some more, if you ask him nicely.”
“Mellicent!” cried Esther deeply; but she cut the string as desired, laid back the wrappings, and took up a small tissue paper parcel.
“Just a small trifle. Something useful for the bottom drawer!” murmured Arthur modestly, and the next moment the parcel fell on the table with a crash, while every one shrieked in chorus. Something had gone off with a bang, something fell out of its wrappings and clattered wood against wood. A mouse-trap! A little, penny mouse-trap of plainest, commonest description! They could hardly believe their eyes—could do nothing but exclaim, gasp, and upbraid at one and the same moment.
“You said it was a wedding present!”
“I never did. It was you who said that. I said ‘something useful for the bottom drawer.’ I hope, dear Esther, that you may find it very, very useful.”