best or one of the best. My offering, dear Faith, is in the basket, and
may be looked at with less difficulty."

Miss Sophy's offering was a kindly one. She had sent a little invoice
of silver spoons and forks. Faith was pleased; and yet she looked
grave, and very grave, over these things. She made no remark whatever
to say why.

If no one else knew there was to be a wedding, at least the express man
did!--and probably in his mind joined these new packages with those he
had so often brought before, very comfortably. The next arrival was a
delicate pair of silver salt-cellars and spoons from Mr. Alcott,--then
a little framed sketch from the Captain of the Vulcan, portraying the
meeting of two steamers at sea, with these words underneath--'The
despatch post'. At which Mr. Linden looked with much amusement. Faith
was delighted.

First on Wednesday morning came Miss Bezac,--bringing the well assorted
tokens of an elaborate needlebook and a simple bread trencher and
knife; and staying only long enough to say, "You see, Faith, what made
me think of this, was that the first time I heard of _that_, was when
you came in for bread and milk. And now you'll have to think of me,
whether you sew or eat!"--with which triumphant sentiment Miss Bezac
departed.

They say ill news flies fast,--in this case so did the good: certainly
people are quick to hear and understand what pleases them. The friends
who had heard from Pet or Mrs. Iredell what was to be, had spread the
information: and in the same sort of way, from two or three old family
dependants another class of Mr. Linden's friends had heard it. Perhaps
among all her presents the little tokens from these people touched her
most. They came queerly done up and directed, sometimes the more formal
'Mrs. Linden' changed into an ill-spelled '_For Mr. Endecott's
wife_'--or '_For the young lady, in care of Mr. Linden_'. She knew the
names thereto appended as little as they knew hers,--could only guess
the vocations,--the tokens were various. A pair of elaborately carved
brackets,--a delicate rustic footstool, trimmed with acorns and
cones,--a wooden screw pincushion, with a flaming red velvet top,--a
case of scissors, pretty enough to have come from anybody, declared the
trade of the sender by the black finger marks on the brown wrapper, and
a most mysteriously compiled address. One of the old sailors who had
crossed with Mr. Linden long ago, sent by Pet's hands a stuffed
tropica