Mrs. Corliss was delighted with her daughter’s find. “I am glad you have the pretty necklace to wear with your best dresses,” she said. “It is very nice and suitable for a schoolgirl. But the pearl ring--I think we must put that away until you are older. It is too valuable and too conspicuous. I don’t like to see little girls wearing jewelry.” “I can wear it when I go to college--if I go; may I not, Mother?” asked Mary wistfully. “Oh, yes, _if_ you go to college, Dearie,” sighed her mother. “At any rate, you can wear it when you are eighteen.” Dr. Corliss examined the ring carefully. “Yes, I am sure I have seen Aunt Nan wear it,” he said. “It must be one of the set of famous pearls that she was once proud of. Doubtless she sold the rest long ago and gave the money to her hospital. I am glad Mary has this; but Mother is right. School-girls should not wear jewelry. Put it away until you are grown-up, my daughter.” So Mary fastened the pretty necklace about her round throat, and shut the pearl ring away in her bureau drawer, with a sigh. But Katy Summers said:-- “I wouldn’t mind, Mary, even if you can’t wear it yet. Just to think that you have it, and that you got it in such a mysterious way! Why, it is like a story-book!” “Doesn’t it make you want to hear some more Shakespeare?” demanded Mary, laughing. “Indeed it does!” agreed Katy. “I’ll come and listen whenever you will let me. Who knows what may happen? Yes, I’ll wager that Caliban knows.” “The same thing never happens twice,” sighed Mary. John was disgusted when he came home from a meeting of the Big Four to find that he had missed this most exciting discovery; although, after all, when it came to the jewelry, John thought the result rather small. “My goodness, Mary!” he exclaimed, “I’ll bet there are lots more things hidden in that old library of yours. Don’t you go and do all the hunting when I’m not here.” “I don’t,” said Mary. “I didn’t mean to hunt. I don’t ever mean to hunt. But if things come--all right.” “I wish you’d let me have the fun of hunting in the library all I want, just once,” said John wistfully. Mary hesitated. She did not want anybody to rummage among her books. But she hated to be “stingy,” and she felt as if she were really having more than her share of fun out of Aunt Nan’s legacy, in spite of John’s two thousand dollars. So she said generously, without letting John see how great an effort it was: “All right, Johnny. To-morrow is Saturday, and I’ll give you free leave to hunt all you want to in my library. I won’t even come to bother you.” “Bully for you!” crowed John. “Finding’s having?” But that was more than Mary bargained for. “Oh, no, John!” she cried. “I don’t think Aunt Nan would like that. Do you?” “Oh, bother! I suppose not,” grumbled John. “She was a queer one!”