The passages that took place around the opening of the wedding presents were possibly as diverting as any. Tom, whose mind's eye was ever upon the little colonial house in Tutors' Lane, now his property, was perhaps more concerned than most grooms are in the furnishing of his nest. He found himself greatly elated when he or his bride would draw forth some shining prize of a silver bowl or plate--until they began getting too many of them--and correspondingly depressed when some many-coloured glass lamp or strange dish would appear. What on earth could they do with them? Dear old Mrs. Conover, for example, sent a large Bohemian glass jar of a peacock-eyes pattern. It would have to be on view when she called, and as they had no way of knowing when that would be, it had to be on view all the time. From Omaha came an ominous package which made Tom shudder. Would his sister contrive to mortify him? He could picture her pleasure in doing so, and when the package was opened and out came two china parrots, Tom thought the pleasure was hers. A note which came with the birds explained that they were very fashionable in Omaha at the time and that all Omaha had them on its dinner table. To Tom, his sister's gift and note could hardly have been worse, but Nancy kissed him and told him not to be stupid, that the parrots were nice; and Tom was so flustered he couldn't tell whether they were or not. At any rate, Nancy wrote a charming, sisterly little note, and Tom was more pleased with his future than ever. The silver tea service which arrived early from Mrs. Robert Lee-Satterlee was among the grandest presents that Nancy received from outside the family. She was particularly grateful for it, since it enabled her to leave her mother's with Henry and thus avoid a discussion which would have been unendurable at the time. It was true that Henry's wife had had a tea service herself and that it was now his; but it was not so fine as the Whitman one, and Henry would have regarded its removal with a jaundiced eye. His wife's silver, however, was quite a bit more handsome than the family silver, and he relinquished the latter with a gesture so graceful that any further donation of property to the hymeneal happiness seemed almost fulsome. Still he did make a further contribution--a costly set of John Stuart Mill.