aimed the two old ladies, rising in their seats.
"Who sent it?"

"Mr. Ladd," said Rebecca under her breath.

"Adam Ladd! Well I never! Don't you remember Ellen Burnham said he was
going to send Rebecca a Christmas present? But I never supposed he'd
think of it again," said Jane. "What's the other package?"

It proved to be a silver chain with a blue enamel locket on it, marked
for Emma Jane. That added the last touch--to have him remember them
both! There was a letter also, which ran:--

Dear Miss Rebecca Rowena,--My idea of a Christmas present is
something entirely unnecessary and useless. I have always
noticed when I give this sort of thing that people love it,
so I hope I have not chosen wrong for you and your friend.
You must wear your chain this afternoon, please, and let me
see it on your neck, for I am coming over in my new sleigh to
take you both to drive. My aunt is delighted with the soap.

Sincerely your friend,

Adam Ladd.

"Well, well!" cried Miss Jane, "isn't that kind of him? He's very fond
of children, Lyddy Burnham says. Now eat your breakfast, Rebecca, and
after we've done the dishes you can run over to Emma's and give her her
chain--What's the matter, child?"

Rebecca's emotions seemed always to be stored, as it were, in adjoining
compartments, and to be continually getting mixed. At this moment,
though her joy was too deep for words, her bread and butter almost
choked her, and at intervals a tear stole furtively down her cheek.

Mr. Ladd called as he promised, and made the acquaintance of the aunts,
understanding them both in five minutes as well as if he had known them
for years. On a footstool near the open fire sat Rebecca, silent and
shy, so conscious of her fine apparel and the presence of aunt Miranda
that she could not utter a word. It was one of her "beauty days."
Happiness, excitement, the color of the green dress, and the touch of
lovely pink in the coral necklace had transformed the little brown wren
for the time into a bird of plumage, and Adam Ladd watched her with
evident satisfaction. Then there was the sleigh ride, during which she
found her tongue and chattered like any magpie, and so ended that
glorious Christmas Day; and many and many a night thereafter did
Rebecca go to sleep with the precious coral chain under her pillow, one
hand always upon it to be certain that it was safe.

Another milestone was the departure of the Simpsons fro