f 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