the
central ones, that were like the dewdrops at the tips of narrow leaves.

"How beautiful!" cried Lilly.

"These diamonds are of great value," said Uncle David, examining them
critically.

"But this man must have had friends," said I: "there must be some one in
the world to whom these things ought to belong."

"Until those friends are found," said Lilly, "I propose that we act as
Mr. Unknown's heir and executors. You can have the handkerchiefs, Stell,
and I will take these buttons: they could be made into lovely earrings."

"Oh, Lilly! should you like to wear them?"

"Certainly: why not?" and Lilly ran to the glass and held one of the
darkly-shining stones against her pale, pretty cheek.--"Don't oppose it,
aunty dear. Only think! fifteen years and the man not heard from!"

"Here are his initials again," said I, picking up the other button, on
whose gold side the initials were engraved. "'C. G.'--Constant Gower?
Colton Goran?"

"What nonsense, Stell!" interrupted Lilly.--"Tell me, Aunt Nanny--may I
have the buttons?"

"Oh, I suppose so, child. You always manage to have your own way; and
if your uncle David is willing, I've no objections."

Uncle David was equally willing, so Lilly took triumphant possession of
the buttons.

Another week saw us on our way to New Orleans. We were neither of us
seasick, and we enjoyed every moment of the voyage across the Gulf. Mrs.
Long seemed glad to have us, and was interested in our incessant talk.
Lilly of course gave her the whole story of the Frenchman's buttons, and
brought them out for her inspection. She said they would make lovely
earrings, and that she must attend to that the first thing on reaching
New Orleans.

She took us to the St. Charles Hotel, and with beating hearts we made
our toilettes for the table d'hote. What a grand occasion that was to
us! I was rather frightened, but Lilly actually seemed to grow taller as
she put on her new dress. She had chosen the suit herself, and while the
skirt was black silk, the bodice was deep crimson laced in the back. Her
face rose from it like a lily, pure and pale. I looked at her with
admiration and despair, for in my nervousness I felt that my face was
the color of an Indian peach. Once seated in the dining-room, however,
we soon began to feel a comfortable sense of our own insignificance, and
to look about at our neighbors as Mrs. Long was doing.

A season of delight now set in for us. We went to museums and
pic