Of course Valentine was quite capable of attending to
the unpacking. Still, one likes to inspect everything one is to
wear, especially when one is expecting a guest to dinner. "Then,"
said Dad, "I think I'll order dinner, and go for a walk., shall we
have dinner here?"
"Oh, by all means! This is so much more homelike than a public
dining room."
"I'll not be gone more than an hour or two. . . Hullo! Come in."
A small boy entered, carrying a box quite as big as himself. "For
Miss Middleton," he said.
"Another present from you, Dad?"
"Open it, my dear."
"I thought so," he remarked, as the removal of the cover displayed
more American Beauties. (There were five dozen;) I counted them
after Dad had gone. Another million roses and in the middle of
January! "Who's the spendthrift this time, Elizabeth?"
"His name," I said, slipping a card: from the envelope that lay on a
huge bow of red ribbon, "is Mr. Blakely Porter."
Although I know, now, there are many things more beautiful, I
believed, then, that nothing more beautiful had ever happened; for
it was the first time a man had ever sent me roses. Nineteen years
old, and my first roses! They made me so happy.
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