She never was obliged to hesitate for a second as to the whereabouts of any of her possessions.

She had some little boxes in her hand, and one rather large one under her arm.
Rose looked at them with interest.

"What is it, Aunt Sylvia ?" said she.
Sylvia laughed.

"Something to show you that belongs to you," she said.
"Why, what have you got that belongs to me, Aunt Sylvia ?" "You wait a minute." Sylvia and Rose both stood beside the white dressing-table, and Sylvia opened the boxes, one after another, and slowly and impressively removed their contents, and laid them in orderly rows on the white dimity of the table.

The lamplight shone on them, and the table blazed like an altar with jewelled fires.