"Is--is that for me?" she said, with her face flushing with excitement.
"Yes; open it."
I saw her little red, rough hands tremble as she untied the string, and
after removing one or two papers, all of which she carefully smoothed
out flat, she came upon a thin morocco case.
"Oh, it's earrings!" she cried; "and you two have bought 'em for me,
because I--because I--because I--How do you open it? Oh my! It's a
little watch."
"Yes," I said, "a watch."
"Yours, Master Burr junior?" she cried. "Oh, it was good of you to come
and show it to me!"
"No, Polly," I cried, looking at it eagerly. "I told you. It's for
you."
"But--but--it can't be."
"Yes," I said, pointing to a little three-cornered note. "Open that and
see what it says."
Polly's trembling fingers hurriedly opened the paper, which she read,
and then handed to me, Mercer looking over me as I held it out and read
these simple words:--
"For Mary Hopley, with a mother's thanks."
I saw the tears start to the girl's eyes, and there was something very
charming in her next act, which was to carefully fold the note and kiss
it before placing it in her bosom.
"I shan't never part with that," she said softly; and then she stood
gazing down at the watch, till a shadow darkened the door, and big Bob
Hopley came striding in.
"Hullo, young gents!" he said; "how are you? Why Polly! What's--"
"A present, father, from Mr Burr junior's mar. Ought I to take it?"
"Yes," I cried eagerly, "of course. You don't know how happy you made
me by what you said. She is to keep it, isn't she, Bob Hopley?"
"Well," said the big fellow, holding the little watch carefully and
admiringly in his great brown hand,--"well, seeing, my lass, how it's
give, and why it's give, and who give it, and so on, I almost think you
might."