There were presents for everyone with no names attached, but Molly suspected Professor Green of being the giver of the pretty things. Hers was a volume of Rossetti's poems bound in dark blue leather. There was a pretty volume of Tennyson's poems for Otoyo; and funny gifts for everybody, with delightful jingles attached which the Professor read very gravely. Otoyo almost had hysterics over her toy, which was simply a small, imitation book shelf on which was a row of the works of Emerson and Carlyle, filled with "meat-sweets." Only one thing happened to mar that evening's pleasure, and this was the fault of the little Japanese herself, to her undying mortification and sorrow. When the party was at its very height and they had joined hands and were circling around Santa Claus, who was singing "The Wearing of the Green," Otoyo unexpectedly broke from the circle and with a funny, squeaky little scream pointed wildly at the window. "Why, child, what frightened you?" asked Miss Grace Green, taking the girl's hand and looking into her white, scared face. But Otoyo refused to explain and would only say over and over: "I ask pardon. I feel so sorrowfully to make this beeg disturbance. Will you forgive Otoyo?" "Of course we forgive you, dear. And won't you tell us what you saw?" "No, no, no. It was notheeng." "We ought to be going, at any rate," said the Professor. "Miss Sen isn't accustomed to celebrations like this when old people turn into children and children turn into infants." "Am I an infant?" asked Molly, "or a child?" "I am afraid you still belong to the infant class, Miss Brown," replied the Professor regretfully. They attributed Otoyo's fright to nervousness caused from over-excitement, and a few minutes later the party broke up. It was one o'clock when the two girls finally climbed upstairs to the lonely silent third floor. Molly escorted Otoyo to her little room and turned on the light. "Now, little one," she said, putting her hands on the Japanese girl's shoulders and searching her face, "what was it you saw at the window?" Otoyo closed the door carefully and, tipping back to Molly's side, whispered: "The greatly beeg black eyes of Mees Blount look in from the window outside. She was very angree. Oh, so angree! She look like an eevil spirit." "Then she didn't go to New York, after all! But how silly not to have joined us. What a jealous, strange girl she is!"