Harry, however, was late, and it was well past six before she came scampering down the path. She had on a brand new dimity dress—white, it was, sprinkled with little yellow rosebuds—and her cheeks were very pink.
“Merry Christmas!” called Chub.
“Happy New Year!” added Roy as she stepped into the canoe.
“Oh, I’ve had the loveliest things!” said Harry, fighting for breath. “Mama gave me this; see?” She held forth the little gold necklace which encircled her throat. “And papa—he gave me something perfectly beautiful! I’ll tell you about it later. And Aunt Harriet—” her face fell a little—“sent me a dandy work-box made of ivory and all—all—oh, deary, I’ve forgotten it!”
“Forgotten what?” asked Roy.
“The word. It’s something about Arabs.”
“What word is it?”
“Why, what papa said. He said the box was ara—ara—”
“Arabesqued?” asked Roy.
“Yes, that’s it! All arabesqued with silver. It’s splendid!”