“Mamma didn’t buy them,” explained Rosie; “they are a set grandpa gave her when she was a little girl; and I think they are as handsome as any she could have found any where.  She said she valued them very highly as his gift, but would never wear them again, and as I am her own little girl, she was willing to give them to me.”

“I think you’re pretty big, Rosie,” remarked Grace.

“Yes; in my fifteenth year; almost a woman, as grandpa tells me sometimes—­when he wants to make me ashamed of not being wiser and better I suppose,” returned Rosie with a laugh, closing the casket and returning it to the drawer, just as Betty, the little maid, showed her black face and woolly head at the half open door with the announcement, “Dinnah’s ready, Miss Rosie; an’ all de folks gwine into de dinnin’ room.”

“Very well; we’re not sorry to hear it, are we girls?  Let us pair off and go down at once to secure our fair share,” said Rosie gaily.  “There’s just an even number of us—­Maud and Lora, Lulu and Eva, Grace and Rosie Lacey, Sydney and I. We’re to have a table to ourselves; I asked mamma if we might, and she gave consent.”

“I like that,” remarked Sydney with satisfaction; “we can have our own fun and eat what we please without anybody to trouble us with suggestions that perhaps such and such articles of food may not agree with us.”

“But we’ll be in the same room with the older folks and they can overlook us if they see fit,” said Rosie.

“And I’d rather have papa to tell me what to eat,” said Grace.

They were hurrying down the stairs as they talked and reached the dining room just in time to take their places before the blessing was asked—­by Mr. Dinsmore at the larger table.

It was a grand dinner of many courses, and a good deal of time, enlivened by cheerful chat, was spent at the table.

Quiet games—­mirth provoking, yet requiring little exertion of mind or body—­filled up the remainder of the afternoon.

After tea they had romping games, but at nine o’clock were called together for family worship; then the younger ones, including Lulu and Grace, went to their beds; very willingly too, for the day—­begun so early because of their eagerness to examine their stockings—­had been an unusually long and exciting one; so that they felt ready for rest.

Grace indeed was so weary that her father carried her up to her room, and did not leave her till she was snug in bed.

She dropped asleep the instant her head touched the pillow and he stood for a moment gazing a little anxiously at her pale face.

“You don’t think Gracie’s sick, papa, do you?” asked Lulu softly.

“No, I trust she will be all right in the morning—­the darling! but she seems quite worn out now,” he sighed.

Then sitting down he drew Lulu into his arms.  “Has it been a happy day with you, dear child?” he asked.

“Yes, papa, very; just full of pleasure; and now that night has come, I’m so glad that I have my own dear papa to hug me up close, and that he’s going to sleep in the next room to Gracie and me.”