ion every time and do not answer directly."

"We'll finish this work and go back to our packing," was the firm
rejoinder. "Your little baby-clothes are here. Your mother must have
been a fine needle-woman, for the rolled hems and hemstitching are
perfect."

The little dresses and petticoats were yellow with age. There was no
distinguishing mark about them. They were of fine sheer linen, and
exquisitely made. But thousands of babies over the land might have worn
just such garments.

"You had a little handkerchief about your neck like a bib," continued
Debby. "This is it. It was pinned down in front with an odd pin. It's
rather peculiar and not worth much as far as money goes."

She handed the pin to Hester. It was of yellow metal--gold, perhaps--of
oval shape and about the size of a dime. Inside the outer gold edge was
woven a narrow strand of hair, and within this was imbedded a peculiar
yellow stone.

"Isn't it pretty!" cried Hester. She held it in her hands and examined
it eagerly. It was the first interest she had evinced in anything which
belonged to that time before she entered the Alden home.

"I fancy it isn't gold," continued Debby Alden. "I never knew gold to
have that peculiar tinge. It was that way when I unpinned it from your
bib. I tried to brighten it a little, but I couldn't. It looks now just
as it did when I laid it away. That stone, of course, is nothing more
than a bit of yellow glass of small value."

"Yes," said Hester slowly. Her eyes were fixed upon the queer stone. "I
never saw a bit of glass look so. When I hold it one way, it looks like
a spark of fire. It looks as deep as a well, when you look directly into
the center."

"Cut glass," said Debby. "All cut glass reflects light like that."

Cut glass or something more, it appealed to Hester. Turning it about in
her hand, she examined it critically.

"There's a little hook here at the end," said Hester. "Did you notice
that, Aunt Debby?" Debby took the pin in her hand to examine it. "I
didn't notice that before. It has been an old fashioned earring made
into a pin. Earrings used to be fashionable. No lady ever dressed
without them, I've heard my mother say. The breast-pin that I wear with
my gray silk was made from an earring of Grandmother Palmer's. Dear,
dear, I wonder who wore these."

"I'm going to keep this and wear it, Aunt Debby."

"I don't believe I would, Hester. Someone might ask you where you got
it."

"And I shall tell