“You mean creature! I hope it may be nothing of the kind; I might have known it was a trick. Now, what is in the other parcels? because if there are any more Jack-in-the-box springs, I prefer not to open them. One shock of that kind is quite enough.”
But Arthur vowed that not another spring was to be found, and, thus reassured, Esther opened in turns a spice-box, a nutmeg-grater, a box of matches, a flour dredger, and a bundle of clothes-pegs.
Each object was greeted with a fresh peal of laughter from the onlookers, who, having recovered from the first disappointment, thoroughly enjoyed the joke played upon the sober Esther, while Esther herself tried hard to be superior and scathing, and Peggy’s bright eyes roamed round in search of a final development.
It was not like Arthur, she told herself, to disappoint a friend even in fun, and she felt convinced that the joke would not end as it had begun. One by one she picked up the scattered articles and examined them gingerly. The mouse-trap was guiltless of bait, the spice-box empty as when it left the shop, but the matchbox felt strangely heavy. She shook it, and felt something tilt forward, peeped inside, and spied a small morocco box.
“Joolery! Joolery!” shrieked Mellicent loudly. “It is—I said it was! Oh, the darling—sweety—pet! I wish—I wish I were going to be married!”
It was the daintiest little diamond brooch that was ever seen. A gold bar with a cluster of stones in the centre; handsome, yet unobtrusive; brilliant, yet modest; the very thing to suit at once the bride’s quiet taste, and the sphere into which she was going. She was unaffectedly charmed, holding it out to the light to admire the stones, her own eyes almost as bright as themselves.
“Oh, Arthur dear, and I called you mean! It was just like you to choose a ridiculous way of giving this lovely present. Fancy me with a diamond brooch—I shall feel so grand. How can I ever thank you enough?”
Mrs Asplin dropped a tear on the shabby table-cloth, for she never could resist a tear when she was very happy, and Mellicent wailed sadly:
“I wish I were married! I wish I were married! It would suit me far better than her. I wish I had been engaged first, after all, because now every one will give Esther a present as a compliment to the family, and when it comes to my turn they will think they have done their duty, and send nothing at all, or only some horrid, niggly little thing like a bread-fork or crumb-scoop! I just know how it will be—”
“But you won’t need presents, dear. You are going to marry a millionaire, and live in the lap of luxury ever after. You settled that years ago,” said Peggy slyly; but Arthur smiled reassuringly in the troubled face, and said: