"I hope he isn't a dandy," thought Val, with a moment's misgiving. As a top-heavy pile of linen and flannel fell against her arm, she was conscious of an odd sense of pleasure, under her shrinking from the contact. It was as if he himself had touched her. Emmie knelt down and gathered up the things, and folded them with her characteristic clumsy helpfulness. These mechanical offices were as far from her limited range of dexterity as the wish to be of service was ever present in her amiable soul. "Now, this was what I thought might do." He opened a box and took out an Indian silver necklace. "Just the thing!" cried Val; "how she'll love the dangles!" "And these for Venus, eh?" He laid down two bangles. "Yes, yes." "Think of Venus havin' 'em _both_," murmured Emmie, hanging over them, fascinated. Val saw there were more silver ornaments in the little box, but Ethan was diving into the trunk again. "This is what I've brought you," he said, still on one knee over the trunk. He turned and handed them each a little morocco case. A murmur of surprised thanks, a click of opening clasps, and before each girl's eyes gleamed a tiny watch, round which lay coiled a fine little chain. "Oh, oh, oh!" Emmie dropped a pile of shirts on the floor and danced about. "My initials on the back in pink coral!" "Mine in turquoise! Oh, how _did_ you know blue was my color?" But Emmie had precipitated herself upon Ethan's bosom and was hugging him wildly. He was laughing, and crying "Help! help!" And when Emmie desisted, "Help me to throw those clothes back." They put everything away in wild disorder, except one small package, which he had pocketed. "Let's go and show our watches to grandma," said Emmie; and they all went down to the long room. Ethan had his hand on the door-knob. "Oh, we always knock," said Emmie, not too excited even by a gold and coral watch but what she could supply so alarming an omission. "Come in."