for us, and
placed the lace paper round the one I had gathered for my mother.

Very important I felt myself as I went down-stairs, for two little
packets, folded in white paper, had been entrusted to my care by my
parents respectively, containing, as I well knew, their presents for
each other, which were to be delivered by me before breakfast.

Directly after prayers the presentation took place. First, the little
parcel addressed to my mother, with the message, which I delivered
demurely enough, that a gentleman who would not give his name, had left
it for Mrs. Grant yesterday, and--but here I broke down, and my appeal,
"Oh, papa, I've forgotten what more it was I was to say," produced a
peal of laughter, and put an end to our little pretence of mystery.

"Your packet is much the smallest, papa," I said; and watched to see
what would come out of the white paper. My father's face lit up with
pleasure as he opened a small case and discovered a beautifully executed
miniature of my mother.

"Willie," he said, "I think the lady who left this for me yesterday must
have been very like mamma."

"Yes, papa, she was _very_ like indeed," I answered; and then we
proceeded to inspect the contents of my mother's parcel, and admired, as
much as it is in boys to admire jewelry, a beautiful bracelet, with
which she seemed quite as much pleased as my father was with his
present, and which had attached to it a locket in the form of a heart,
containing, as we presently discovered, my hair twined with his.

Then Aleck and I had to present our nosegays, which were, of course,
greatly praised.

"An unusual honour for me!" said my father merrily, when he received
his. "Willie generally cuts me off with a sprig for my button-hole."

"Aleck gathered it for you quite out of his own head, papa."

"Indeed!" said my father; "that is really the most wonderful thing I
ever heard! Gathered the nosegay out of his own head! Well, I have been
told of flowers growing in many strange places before, but never in so
strange a place as a person's head. Aleck, my dear boy, you will be the
wonder of the age, so prepare to be made a show of! a flower-garden in
your head! We must let the gardener know! We ought to place you under
his cultivation instead of Mr. Glengelly's!"

What a merry breakfast-table we had that morning. My father declared
that he felt just like a boy, so happy in having his holiday; and Aleck
and I thought him more amusing and pleas