Dexie did not answer; something of more consequence than dumplings was troubling her just then, and as she followed Elsie into the front hall, she was tenderly feeling her nose and mentally comparing it with its usual proportions, inwardly calling herself all sorts of hard names for being so silly.

“But I won’t whistle to-night, so there!” she kept saying to herself, as if she needed to keep her determination constantly before herself in order to back it up.

Elsie rushed up the stairs at once, eager to enjoy the delights that an English box always contained; but for once Dexie’s interest was centred in herself.  Her nose could not be forgotten; in fact, she was trying to reduce its proportions by pressing it between her thumb and finger.  She wondered if the rest of the family would notice it and make remarks thereon.  Lancy would be sure to know at once that something was wrong; but she would keep out of sight, for she would not whistle; no, indeed.

“Oh, Dexie, how you do poke along!” Elsie remarked from the top of the stairs.  “I declare, you are enough to try the patience of a Job.  Come along, or I’ll rush into the room first, manners or no manners; then mother will be displeased.”

Dexie was up the few remaining steps before Elsie had finished speaking.  She was just as anxious to see the English presents as if half of them were meant for herself.  Her swelled nose was instantly forgotten, and she passed through the door that Elsie held open for her, and was soon bending over the treasures with the rest.  The room was soon in confusion, as dress patterns, laces, ribbons, gloves and fans, and trinkets in endless variety were strewn over bed, table and chairs.  The swelled nose could not hide the beautiful things laid out for her admiring eyes, and she watched with smiling face as Elsie adorned herself with finery without regard to number or suitability.

“Oh, what a fine Indian brave am I!” sang Elsie as she danced before the mirror, her arms adorned with three sets of bracelets, and her neck encircled with ribbons and lace, while several lockets and charms attached to velvet bands added to her glory.  “Now, with a few of those ostrich tips in my hair, I shall be ready to start for the Governor’s ball,” she added, dancing around the room, sending the ribbons and laces gaily fluttering behind her.

“You’ll bawl at home, my lady, if you spoil anything with your capers,” said Cora.  “Take off those things at once, Elsie; some of them are mine, I know.  Oh! here is a note, mother.  The coral set belongs to Elsie, and is presented by her godmother, and this bangled set is mine.  Do you think they would be too showy to wear to-night, mother?”

“Oh! what is this beautiful thing?” Dexie exclaimed, as she lifted a handsome lace bertha.  “My! isn’t it lovely?  How do I look in borrowed feathers—­or laces, to be more exact?”

“Oh, fine!” Elsie replied.  “I wonder who it was sent to—­not me, I hope; it would make me look like a fright, while it makes you look like a fairy,” and Elsie turned to examine another parcel.