Hester shivered in spite of her effort to convince herself that she was warm. Prue noticed it, and was rather glad of an excuse for getting down to warmer quarters. "Hester is freezing," she cried. "Oswyth Grey's chest hasn't such splendid gowns in it as those we have seen; they're all simple muslins, delicately embroidered, except one heavy violet and white brocade--white, with violets strewn over it--which is the one Wythie will wear at the dance, if she wears any of them. Let's go down and get warm, all of us." "Shall we? Are you cold, Hessie, Frances, little Rutherford B's, and Lester?" Rob asked, hesitating a little over the use of Lester Baldwin's name, though both he and Hester had protested against formality. "Well, I'm more nearly goose-flesh than one could possibly expect me to be," said Bruce. "I confess that the wood-fire down-stairs might be spelled wooed, for it woos me strongly, though I should dearly love to see Oswyth Grey's chest opened," said Hester. "Why, she's shivering as she speaks!" cried Rob. "Come, then my brethren. We might carry down these gowns we have selected. I'll lay them in Mardy's room to be tried on by the girls tomorrow. Hester must slip on hers to-night--oh, I forgot! Hester has her gown at home. We haven't provided for the other two girls, but we didn't come up here intending to select gowns; merely to see them." Rob was talking as she went on down the stairs, following her guests and Prue, Polly following her, as she always did. Her voice floated back to Wythie who had remained behind closing the trunks. She arose from her knees when the last key was withdrawn and looked longingly over to Oswyth Grey's chest, where it stood in a corner by one of the gable windows. She loved that chest and its vanished owner, whose kinship to herself she felt so strongly, the young maiden, about whom she knew really nothing but that she had loved and died--which, after all, is an epitome of all lives. "Ah, well; I shall have plenty of chances to see you again, dear Oswyth," she said aloud. She turned around and there was Basil, waiting for her. "Why, you startled me, Basil," said Wythie, her colour rising. But she did not look in the least startled; it always seemed possible to Wythie that she might raise her eyes and see Basil, even when he was away. "I thought perhaps you and I might stay behind long enough for just one peep into that other Oswyth Grey's chest," said Basil. "Let me know her, too, Wythie." Wythie crossed over to the chest without a word, and knelt to unfasten it. Then she threw back its lid, and looked up at Basil. "There isn't much to see, but it has always seemed to me that there was much to feel in this chest," she said.