“No, indeed!” Aunt Janet folded up the letter decidedly. “That chest has been locked up for fifty years, and it’ll stand being locked up one more night. You children wouldn’t sleep a wink to-night if we opened it now. You’d go wild with excitement.” “I’m sure I won’t sleep anyhow,” said Felicity. “Well, at least you’ll open it the first thing in the morning, won’t you, ma?” “No, I’ll do nothing of the sort,” was Aunt Janet’s pitiless decree. “I want to get the work out of the way first--and Roger and Olivia will want to be here, too. We’ll say ten o’clock to-morrow forenoon.” “That’s sixteen whole hours yet,” sighed Felicity. “I’m going right over to tell the Story Girl,” said Cecily. “Won’t she be excited!” We were all excited. We spent the evening speculating on the possible contents of the chest, and Cecily dreamed miserably that night that the moths had eaten everything in it. The morning dawned on a beautiful world. A very slight fall of snow had come in the night--just enough to look like a filmy veil of lace flung over the dark evergreens, and the hard frozen ground. A new blossom time seemed to have revisited the orchard. The spruce wood behind the house appeared to be woven out of enchantment. There is nothing more beautiful than a thickly growing wood of firs lightly powdered with new-fallen snow. As the sun remained hidden by gray clouds, this fairy-beauty lasted all day. The Story Girl came over early in the morning, and Sara Ray, to whom faithful Cecily had sent word, was also on hand. Felicity did not approve of this. “Sara Ray isn’t any relation to our family,” she scolded to Cecily, “and she has no right to be present.” “She’s a particular friend of mine,” said Cecily with dignity. “We have her in everything, and it would hurt her feelings dreadfully to be left out of this. Peter is no relation either, but he is going to be here when we open it, so why shouldn’t Sara?” “Peter ain’t a member of the family YET, but maybe he will be some day. Hey, Felicity?” said Dan. “You’re awful smart, aren’t you, Dan King?” said Felicity, reddening. “Perhaps you’d like to send for Kitty Marr, too--though she DOES laugh at your big mouth.” “It seems as if ten o’clock would never come,” sighed the Story Girl. “The work is all done, and Aunt Olivia and Uncle Roger are here, and the chest might just as well be opened right away.” “Mother SAID ten o’clock and she’ll stick to it,” said Felicity crossly. “It’s only nine now.” “Let us put the clock on half an hour,” said the Story Girl. “The clock in the hall isn’t going, so no one will know the difference.” We all looked at each other. “I wouldn’t dare,” said Felicity irresolutely. “Oh, if that’s all, I’ll do it,” said the Story Girl.