and from the excelsior which it contained, Mrs. Gordon drew a cut-glass celery tray and a tea-cup like those which she had received on her birthday. The card which was attached to its handle showed that Ted was the donor. “I ’m awfully sorry, little Mum, but accidents will happen. Please accept the celery tray as a peace-offering,” she read aloud, and a little pink spot appeared in each cheek.
She carefully avoided the eyes of her family as she thanked Ted, and then turned to undo the next package. When the baby ribbon which held its tissue-paper coverings in place had been untied, a holly box appeared, and the card which lay on its lid said, “This seems to be a particularly happy time to ask you to let bygones be bygones and to forgive and forget. Helen.” Mrs. Gordon set another tea-cup beside the first, and near it laid a purse of silver mesh. The pink in her cheeks deepened as she told Helen how much she appreciated the gifts.
“SHE HELD THE FATEFUL CUP UP FOR THEIR INSPECTION.” (SEE PAGE 396.)
It was not hard to guess that the third package also contained a cup and saucer—its knobby out-lines proclaimed it even before the string was cut. The little box which Mrs. Gordon took out of the tea-cup hid a brooch—a dainty wreath, its leaves studded with pearls; and the slip of paper which lay beneath it said only, “This wreath is in reality an olive-branch from your husband.” This time Mrs. Gordon felt that she really could n’t look up lest her family notice that she had tears in her eyes.
She opened the last two packages in quick succession. First came a holly box, just large enough to hold another cup and saucer; the envelop in the bottom of the box contained a check and one of Robert’s cards, on which he had written: “This check is really the silver plateau which you have long wanted—I did n't dare trust to my masculine taste, so I leave the selection to you. Will you please forgive the awkward black sheep?” The last package held a wooden box which was undistinguishable from Ted’s, but a gay Japanese vase instead of a cut-glass celery tray accompanied the cup and saucer, and the card, in Hilda’s boyish hand, read, “I know it was awkward, but I’m truly sorry that it happened. Please forgive me.”
Mrs. Gordon laid down the card, and at last faced her family. “Will some one please explain? How did you all know that that cup was broken?” she asked faintly, her face scarlet.
There was a moment of awkward silence, then came a chorus of responses. “I broke one of your