Before H. R. could think of a suitable retort, Dora had drawn Koko’s present from its enclosing wrappers. "A _work-box_--full of things!" she said, laughing; "everything I can possibly want, even down to matches!" The three ladies all agreed that it was a very nice work-box. "And now for the third parcel," said H. R., meaningly. "It is a fan," said Dora, quietly opening Jim’s parcel--"an ivory one." She passed it on to Miss Bird. "A beautiful present, my dear," said that lady. "I admire Dr Mortimer’s taste." "And look!" cried H. R., who next inspected the fan; "it has a sprig of rosemary upon it. How very sentimental! That means remembrance, doesn’t it? Dora, I do believe Dr Mortimer likes you more than he cares to admit." "Please don’t talk such nonsense, H. R.," said Dora, holding out her hand for the fan. "Come, now," said H. R., spreading out the fan and peeping over it, "tell me! Don’t you think I’m right?" "Right about what?" asked Dora, with trembling lips. "Oh, please give me my fan!" "Give the child her fan and don’t tease her," rasped out Miss Bird, who saw through the deliberate malice of H. R.’s question. "Why doesn’t she answer, then?" said H. R., examining the sprig of rosemary with renewed interest; "anybody would think that she liked _him_ by the way she goes on." The blood rushed into Dora’s face. "See how she is blushing!" added H. R., unsparingly. "I’m not blushing," cried Dora, whose cheeks sadly belied her words. "You are--I believe you _do_ like him!" Dora rose from her chair. The blood had died out of her face, and she was very white. "And why," she demanded, her eyes flashing ominously, "_shouldn’t_ I like him? Is there any sin in it? When he came you all condemned him, but he has been quite patient and nice and gentlemanly all the time, in spite of the things that have been said to him. Yes, I _do_ like him, and I shall always value this present from him. Please give it to me." H. R. handed her the fan. "In _that_ case, Dora, dear," she said, cuttingly, "it seems a pity that you are marrying Mr Jefferson to-morrow." Dora closed the fan and held it tightly to her bosom. Her sister’s final remark had brought the blood surging into her face again. "Oh," she cried, "how I _hate_ you, H. R.--yes, _hate_ you!" And with that she gave a piteous little cry and ran out of the room. For a few moments there was silence, and then Miss Bird turned her stern, lined face towards the elder sister. "Miss Maybury," she said, "I am ashamed of you." "Your opinion of me," said H. R., with a forced lightness of tone, "does not concern me at all." "To think," Miss Bird went on, "that you should taunt that poor child with a fact that has been patent to every woman in this house for _weeks_ past! You have seen it--you know it. I repeat, I am heartily ashamed of you." "Please spare me your lectures, Miss Bird."