ts of fresh stock on the lower
shelf. As he broke it open, she readjusted her heavy-rimmed spectacles,
and watched his actions with amusement.

Hearts of cardboard with crudely pierced edges of blue forget-me-nots,
little square folders bearing pictures of doves, a cottage, an old mill,
or a bit of idealistic scenery--he sorted them all. Each appropriate
sentiment on the inner leaf, "To one I love," "To my true love," and the
like, was read and approved before he shoved the packet away from him.

"Let's see your two-penny ones."

Gorgeously laced, these, with cut-outs in the center to reveal
butterflies, arrow-pierced hearts, or Dresden Shepherdesses. He selected
three of the gaudy creations.

"The nickel ones--in boxes."

Thus did he aspire to brilliantly-colored celluloid for the crowning
jewel of the St. Valentine's sacrifice. He handed the assortment to Miss
Thomas with a sheepish grin.

"Envelopes for them, too. How much?"

She counted them with gaunt, practiced fingers.

"Sixteen penny ones, three two-centers, and one at five. Do you want one
or two-cent envelopes?"

He gazed at the assortment of paper containers. Monstrosities of hearts,
cupids, and entwining fretwork were embossed on each, but save for the
intricacy of design, there was little difference between them. He
indicated his choice.

"Forty-three cents," said Miss Thomas.

John paid the sum without a tremor and dashed for the door. The
selection had taken longer than he had planned and he was afraid he
would miss the paper wagon.

That evening was passed in addressing the envelopes at his father's
library desk. Five of them were scrawled in a heavy backhand, with the
aid of his mother's broad, stub pen, and five more in his normal
handwriting. He finished the others in a variety of huge pothooks with
blackly crossed "T's" and dotted "I's," and viewed the result of his
labors with great satisfaction. Louise would never guess that they had
come from the same donor.

Their despatch to the valentine box was the next thing to trouble him.
If he deposited so large a number of love tokens in one, or even two
installments, it would certainly attract attention. He took Silvey into
his confidence.

"Why don't you want Louise to know where they came from?" asked his chum
thoughtfully.

"'Cause getting the most valentines in the room won't be half the fun if
she knows I sent 'em all."

"Give 'em to me," said Silvey. "I'll put half in, myself,