But just now she was so happy that she wouldn't even have stepped into a fairy-tale.
Presently, through the dripping window-panes, she saw Alec plodding up the avenue under an umbrella, his pockets bulging with mail packages, papers, and letters.

Betty, at her window up-stairs, saw him also, and came running down the steps, followed by Eugenia.

The old Colonel, hearing the call, "The mail's here," opened the door of his den, and joined the group in the hall where Betty proceeded to sort out the letters.

A registered package from Stuart was the first thing that Eugenia tore open, and the others looked up from their letters at her pleased exclamation: "Oh, it's the charms for the bride's cake!" "Ornaments for the top ?" asked Rob, as she lifted the layer of jeweller's cotton and disclosed a small gold thimble, and a narrow wedding-ring.
"No! Who ever heard of such a thing!" she laughed.

"Haven't you heard of the traditional charms that must be baked in a bride's cake?
It is a token of the fate one may expect who finds it in his slice of cake.
Eliot taught me the old rhyme: "'Four tokens must the bridescake hold: A silver shilling and a ring of gold, A crystal charm good luck to symbol, And for the spinster's hand a thimble.' "Eliot firmly believes that the tokens are a prophecy, for years ago, at her cousin's wedding in England, she got the spinster's thimble.