and he never teased her as the others did. Once or twice in the course of the first week he had invited her to drive with him, and although this may have been possible only because Agnes was too busy to drive, still the attention was none the less agreeable to Brenda.
In addition to the pleasure of welcoming her sister and Mr. Weston, Brenda had the excitement of looking at her presents. While Agnes had brought nothing that was extremely valuable, there were ever so many pretty little trinkets such as can be found only in Paris. Two or three little stick-pins in curious designs especially pleased her. “They go right to my heart!” she had exclaimed on opening the little box containing them.
“Now don’t let them go right to your heart,” Agnes had said. “We cannot have any funerals here,—at least until after the wedding;” and all the others, even Julia, had laughed,—all excepting Ralph. It was by refraining from laughing at what Brenda called the wrong place, that Ralph had made rapid advance in her regard.
A half-dozen of the exquisitely embroidered Swiss handkerchiefs had also been among her presents. “I’m afraid that you have forgotten the difficulty that Brenda has in keeping her handkerchiefs,” and Mrs. Barlow shook her head warningly, as Brenda held up each delicate bit of cambric for admiration.
“Oh, no, I have n’t forgotten; but Brenda is so much older now that I am sure there is little danger of her losing these.”
Whereupon Brenda decided to reward Agnes’s faith in
