"
Mrs. Tennant could not help laughing. The boys were also in the highest
good-humor; Kathleen's mirth was contagious. They went upstairs to the
bedroom, and then Ben saucily perched himself on the foot of one of the
beds; while David, having brought up a hammer and screwdriver, proceeded
to lift the lid of the box, which was firmly nailed down. Under the lid
was a lot of tissue-paper. Kathleen went on her knees, lifted it up,
uttered a shout, and turned to the boys.
"You make off now," she said.
"No, indeed I won't," said Ben. "I want to see the fun."
"Go, both of you. There will be something nice for you when you come
back to tea," said Kathleen.
They looked regretful, but saw nothing for it but to go. Kathleen in a
breathless sort of way, scarcely uttering a word, spread out her
treasures on the bed. Was there ever such a box? Skirts, bodices,
blouses, shirts; an evening dress, an afternoon dress, a morning
dress--they seemed simply endless. Then there were frills and ribbons
and veils; there were two great, big, very stylish-looking hats, with
long plumes; and there was a little toque made of crimson velvet, which
Kathleen declared was quite too sweet for anything. There were also
dozens of handkerchiefs, dozens of pairs of stockings, and some sweet
little slippers all embroidered and fit for the most bewitching feet in
the world. Kathleen's cheeks got redder and redder.
"Here's a cargo for you," she said.
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