"It isn't chased as much as mine, but it's real handsome.

My, Ellen Brewster, you ain't going to cry before all these people!" Ellen smiled against a sob, and she gave her head a defiant toss.
Down in the audience Fanny had her handkerchief to her eyes, and Andrew sat looking sternly at the speaker.

Ellen said to herself that she would not cry--she would not, but she sat gazing down at her flower-laden lap and the presents.

The golden disk under her fixed eyes waxed larger and larger, until it seemed to fill her whole comprehension as with a golden light of a suffering, self-denying love which was her best reward of life and labor on the earth..