"Why, Sophia," cried Mrs. Cutting, "don't you know? It is an afternoon-tea kettle."
"What's that thing under it?" asked Sophia.
"Why, that's the alcohol-lamp. It swings on that little frame over the lamp and heats the water. I thought it would be so nice for her."
"It's beautiful," said Flora.
Sophia said nothing.
"It is real silver; it isn't plated," said Mrs. Cutting, in a slightly grieved tone.
"It is beautiful," Flora murmured again, but Sophia said nothing.
Flora began opening another package. It was quite bulky. It was marked "Flora, with best wishes for a life of love and happiness, from Abby Dodd."
"Be careful," charged Abby Dodd. "It's glass."
Flora removed the paper gingerly. The present was rolled in tissue-paper.
"What beautiful dishes!" said she, but her voice was again slightly bewildered.
Sophia looked at the present with considerable interest. "What be the bowls for?" said she. "Oatmeal?"
The visitors all laughed.
"Oatmeal!" cried Abby. "Why, they are finger-bowls!"
"Finger-bowls?" repeated Sophia, with a plainly hostile air.
"Yes,—bowls to dip your fingers in after dinner," said Abby.
"What for?" asked Sophia.
"Why, to—to wash them."
"We wash our hands in the wash-basin in the kitchen with good hot water and soap," said Sophia.
"Oh, but these are not really to wash the hands in—just to dabble the fingers in," said Eunice, still giggling. "It's the style. You have them in little plates with doilies and pass them around after dinner."
"They are real pretty," said Flora.
Sophia said nothing.
"They are real cut glass," said Mrs. Cutting.
Flora turned to the third package, that was small and flat and exceedingly dainty. The red and green ribbon was tied in a charming bow with Eunice's visiting-card. On the back of the card was written, "Flora, with dearest love, and wishes for a life of happiness, from Eunice." Flora removed the ribbons and the white paper, and opened a flat white box, disclosing six dainty squares of linen embroidered with violets.
"What lovely mats!" said she.
"They are finger-bowl doilies," said Eunice, radiantly.
"To set the bowls on?" said Flora.
"Yes; you use pretty plates, put a doily in each plate, and then the finger-bowl on the doily."
"They are lovely," said Flora.
Sophia said nothing.
Abby looked rather aggrievedly at Sophia. "Eunice and I thought Flora would like them as well as anything we could give her," said she.
"They are lovely," Flora said again.
"You haven't any like them, have you?" Abby asked, rather uneasily.
"No, she hasn't," answered Sophia, for her niece.
"We tried to think of some things that everybody else wouldn't give her," said Mrs. Cutting.
"Yes, you have," Sophia answered, dryly.
"They are all beautiful," said Flora, in a soft, anxiously deprecating voice, as she gathered up the presents. "I keep my presents in the parlor," she remarked further. "I guess I'll put these in there with the rest."
Presently she returned, bringing a large box; she set it down and returned for another. They were large suit-boxes. She placed them on the table, and the visitors gathered round.
"I've had beautiful presents," said Flora.
"Yes, she has had some pretty nice presents," assented Sophia. "Most of them are real nice."
Flora stood beside the table and lifted tenderly from the box one wedding-gift after another. She was full of shy pride. The visitors admired everything. When Flora had displayed the contents of the two boxes, she brought out a large picture in an ornate gilt frame, and finally wheeled through the door with difficulty a patent rocker upholstered with red crushed plush.
"That's from some of his folks," said Sophia. "I call it a handsome present."
"I'm going to have a table from his aunt Jane," remarked Flora.
