ook
dandy on you. Here, I'm going to fix you up for Captain Clarke to see."

Sherm shook out the glowing silken folds and proceeded to wreathe the
scarf around Chicken Little's head, turban fashion. Her brown eyes
glowed and the color in her cheeks grew deeper, as she met the
admiration in Sherm's eyes. He was staring at her, enchanted at the
result of his efforts. Jane moved restlessly.

"Hold still there, can't you? I want to try it another way. Didn't I see
one of those sleeveless jacket affairs in there?"

Jane rummaged and brought to light a crimson silk Turkish jacket
embroidered in gold thread. She noticed that it, too, seemed perfectly
fresh.

"Sherm, I do wonder how Captain Clarke happened to buy all these woman's
things. Do you suppose he bought them for his wife and she was dead when
he got home with them?"

"I wonder. Perhaps we oughtn't to be handling them. See all those queer
beads, and there's a bracelet! Isn't it a beauty? See, it is like silver
lace. I guess those blue stones must be turquoises."

"Isn't it dainty? That must be the filigree work we read about."

Sherm was staring thoughtfully at the contents of the drawer. "One thing
sure," he muttered, "he must have thought a heap of her."

Chicken Little had continued exploring. "Here's a photograph and two
locks of hair in a little frame. Oh, Sherm, it's her! Yes, it must be,
this is the same baby. I wonder why he doesn't have this on his bureau,
too."

Sherm took the picture and stared at it so long that Jane grew
impatient.

"What is it, Sherm? What's the matter?"

Sherm started, passing his hand over his forehead and eyes as if he were
dazed.

"Funny, the face seems sort of familiar. I had such a queer feeling
about it for a minute."

"I know why it looks familiar--there's a tiny bit of resemblance to
you--not as much as in the pictures of the baby. I suppose the baby got
it from the mother. Still, I think it looks like Captain Clarke, too,
don't you?"

"Let's put these things back, Chicken Little. Poor little lady, I wonder
what happened to her." Sherm laid the picture gently back in the bottom
of the drawer and helped Jane fold and lay away the other things. They
had both forgotten the Roman sash which still adorned her dark hair.

Captain Clarke, coming in soon after, started when he saw her and
glanced at the cabinet.

"Dressing up, Chicken Little? That gew gaw was evidently intended by
Providence for you. Won't you accep