The expression of his face repaid her, as he examined it with a comical blending of reverence and affection, such as a devout Catholic would manifest towards a relic. In the blade of the oar were worked, with the most exquisite fineness, the words, "A True Knight." Within an inner pocket, where they could not be readily seen, were the words, "With the thanks of Lottie Marsden." But his quick scrutiny soon discovered them, and he turned and said, with an emphasis that did her good, "I value this more than the check." "What folly!" she said, blushing with pleasure; "it isn't worth five dollars." "I can prove that it is worth more than the check," he said, in a low tone. "How?" "We value that gift most which we receive from the friend we value most. There; it is proved in a sentence; but I can prove it over again." "What delightful lessons in logic! But you surely cannot prove it again." "Yes. If the gift from the friend we value most contains evidence that thought and time have been expended upon it, that gift, however slight its market value, has a worth to us beyond price, because showing that the friend we love supremely thinks of us in our absence." "I did put a great deal of time and thought in that little gift, but you have repaid me," Lottie answered. Their brief but significant tete-a-tete was now interrupted by De Forrest, who came forward to thank Lottie for her costly gift to him,--a gift bought on Broadway. He had uneasily marked the fact that she had given something to Hemstead, but when he saw that it was only a sermon-cover, he was quite relieved. "Come here, Frank, and show me your present," said Mr. Dimmerly, a little later. Hemstead good-naturedly complied, and the old gentleman looked at the single embroidered oar, with a comical twinkle in his eye, and called again, "Lottie, come here." She approached rather shyly and reluctantly, not knowing what to expect. "Now, Lottie," said her uncle, reproachfully, pointing to the oar, "I did not expect that from so sensible a girl as you are. What is a man going to do with one oar, unless he is to take a lonely scull through life as I have? Did you mean to suggest that to Mr. Hemstead?" "Mr. Hemstead found out another meaning than that," she said, laughing, "and I'm not going to stay here to be teased by you"; and she ran out of the room, the picture of blushing happiness. When Hemstead again saw her it was with a great dread in his heart, and his tones were grave and almost stern. "O--h--h, you found out another meaning, did you?" said Mr. Dimmerly, looking both kindly and quizzically over his spectacles at his nephew. "Well, uncle, to tell you the truth I hardly understand myself. My visit here is a great contrast to my quiet seminary life, and I have been getting deeper and deeper into a maze of happy bewilderment every day. So much has happened, and I am so changed, that, like many in tales of enchantment, I scarcely know whether I am myself."