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 daffodils in her window-box, to put in the jug when the day came,—and it was less than a week off.

And how that week did fly! The sixth came on Saturday, and though we saw preparations, the folks kept their promise about not talking to us about it. We didn't know what time she was to arrive, but Bess came over early, right after breakfast, with the daffodils, and we put them in the jug on the desk, and Bess smoothed out the embroidered cloth on the table, and looked into the dresser drawers to see if there were fresh papers, and we brought in two or three of my books that we thought she might like, and put them on the book-shelves,—and a couple of magazines on the table,—and we patted everything all into place, and then went down and put up the hammock on the veranda—it was time it was out, anyway.

We sat there and talked and watched the street and tried to be interested in what we were saying—until by and by Bess just had to go home, because her father was in town for a few days, and