"Lord-a-massy! wonder he hadn't hit us in the head; that's the queerest caper I ever did see." We all laughed heartily, and Louis said: "My Emily, you are a rainbow of promise; the sun shines through your tears." We had made preparations to receive our friends Monday evening, and had huge loaves of cake awaiting with lemonade, and something warm for those who desired it. An ancient service of rare and unique design was brought out by Clara for the occasion. It belonged to her husband's family in France and came to him as an heirloom. The contrast between it and the mulberry set which mother gave me struck me as singular, but the flowers and figures of the mulberry ware did not fall into insignificance. They were to me the embodiment of beauty. Among my earliest disappointments was the giving of grandmother's china to Hal, and I cried for "just one saucer," and this was a fac-simile and met a hearty appreciation. I bedewed it with tears, and Aunt Hildy said it was dretful dangerous to give me anything, and she should'nt try it. "You'll want two or three handkerchiefs to cry on to-night, for the folks'll bring over a lot o' things to you." "I do not expect a single present, neither desire any if I have to make a speech," I said. "Keep close to me, Emily," said Louis, "and I will make the speeches if it becomes a duty." I feared Clara would get tired out, but she said: "Oh, no, they will come early, you know, and go away early also, and with you and Louis to hold me up I shall be borne on wings!" At six o'clock they began to appear. We had our supper at four, and were ready to receive them. Louis and I sat in Clara's sitting-room, and Aunt Hildy said: "It's my business to 'tend to the comin' in. 'Better to be a door-keeper in the house of the Lord, than dwell in the tents of wickedness;' so that's settled." And with this she established herself in a chair before the open door. Mother was near to assist, and I smiled to hear Aunt Hildy repeat: