It was filled with bon-bons and many inexpensive trifles, but down in the toe was a little gold thimble, from Patricia.
It was in the chair under the stocking that she found the gloves from Eugenia, the book from "Cousin Carl" and a long box that she opened with breathless interest because Phil's card lay atop.

On it was scribbled, "The 'Best Man's' best wishes for a Merry Christmas to Mary." Tearing off the ribbons and the tissue paper wrappings she lifted the lid, and then drew a long rapturous breath, exclaiming, "Roses! American Beauty roses! The first flowers a man ever sent me--and from the _Best_ Man!" She laid her face down among the cool velvety petals and closed her eyes, drinking in the fragrance.

Then she lifted each perfect bud and half blown flower to examine it separately, revelling in the sweetness and colour.

Then the uncomfortable thought occurred to her that she was happier over this gift than she had been over the furs or the long-wished-for ring, and she began to make excuses to herself.
"Maybe if I'd always had them sent to me as Lloyd and Betty and the other girls have, it wouldn't seem such a big thing.

But this is the first time.