"What's that?" said Mrs. Caldwell. "Give it to me."
Beth's heart stood still.
There was a card attached to the flowers, and Mrs. Caldwell read aloud, "Miss Caldwell, with respectful compliments."
"Who brought this, Harriet?" she asked.
"No one, ma'am," Harriet replied. "It was 'itched on till the knocker."
"Very strange," Mrs. Caldwell muttered suspiciously. "Beth, do you know anything about it?"
"Is there no name on the card?" Beth asked diplomatically; and Mrs. Caldwell looked at the card instead of into Beth's face, and discovered nothing.
Raindrops sparkled on the flowers, their fragrance filled the room, and their colours and forms and freshness were a joy to behold. "How beautiful they are!" Mrs. Caldwell exclaimed.
"May I have them, mamma?" Beth put in quickly.
"Well, yes, I suppose you may," Mrs. Caldwell decided; "although I must say I do not understand their being left in this way at all. Who could have sent you flowers?"