“Well, it was done in the manner of a joke, I was going out of mourning, and had already given away a lot of things to perfectly ungrateful, unappreciative persons, so I thought I’d do something unusual. I packed a few things in a box to go off just anywhere, I didn’t care where. Then I thought up a nice ordinary name. Ellen seemed to please me, but Ellen—what? I stood up, shut my eyes, and turned around two or three times. When I opened them I was facing north. Ellen North, said I, a good sensible name, so I wrote that on the box. Then it occurred to me that the name of the sender would be required. I took my own initials; Mary would do for Mabel, and, as points of the compass were in order, West would do for Wickham. The next question was where to send it. I opened a map, shut my eyes again, and plumped my finger down anywhere. It happened to fall on Marshville, so there you are. I know you must think me the silliest, most fanciful person in the world, but I enjoyed the game and sent out my box into the unknown, wondering what would happen to it, and if any one would get it.” “It is like a real Christmas fairy tale,” declared Ellen, “and a lovely one for me. I don’t see how you thought of doing that way; yes, I do, though, for I just love to use my imagination, and I am pleased to pieces to think the things came my way just as if a fairy godmother had brought them in a pumpkin-shell chariot.” “Oh, you dear thing! I just love your saying that. I believe we are going to be friends. I don’t have many friends because so many people are stupid; at least, they think my flights of fancy are just crazy foolishness. Perhaps I am as stupid as they because it isn’t yet through my noddle how you happened to guess I was Mary West.” “Because of the handkerchief, you see. It was such a nice fine one. I found it in the pocket of the coat and so I used it. Don’t you see?” Miss Wickham opened her bag and produced a handkerchief exactly like the one she had picked up from the floor. “Twins!” she exclaimed. “But, oh, dear, you are minus a handkerchief if I keep this one; that will not do.” “Please don’t bother. I had several for Christmas, beauties, from Mr. Barstow’s Christmas tree.” “But you will need this before you can get at the others. You can borrow it.” “I’ll be glad to, and I’ll send it to you properly laundered. Shall you be here long, or are you going back to Baltimore?” “How do you know that Baltimore is my home?” “It was on the box; ‘Mary West, Baltimore.’” “Of course; I had forgotten. I shall be at Mrs. Everleigh’s for another week, and I do hope we shall meet again before you leave. May I come to Mrs. Austin’s to see you?” “Indeed you may, though I am to be here but a couple of days longer; then, ‘back to the mines.’” “O dear! I do want to know you better and to hear all about you——”