One by one she piled them on a packing-trunk behind her, and then climbed up beside them, sitting Turk fashion in their midst, and leaving the chair by the window for Lloyd.
"It's just a scrap of unset turquoise," explained Lloyd, as she unwrapped a small package, "no larger than one of the beads on this fan-chain.

I was in a big hurry when I dropped it into my drawer, and I didn't notice which box I put it in.

So we'll have to take out all these ribbons and laces and handkerchiefs and sachet-bags." It was the first time during her visit that Mary had been entirely alone with her adored Princess, and to be with her now in this intimate way, smoothing her dainty ribbons, peeping into her private boxes, and handling her pretty belongings, gave her a pleasure that was indescribable.
"Shall I open this, too ?" she asked, presently, picking up a package wrapped in an old gauze veil.
Lloyd glanced up.

"Yes; although I haven't the slightest idea what it can be." A faint, delicious odor stole out as Mary unwound the veil, an odor of sandalwood, that to her was always suggestive of the "Arabian Nights," of beautiful Oriental things, and of hidden treasures in secret panels of old castles.
"I've hunted for that box high and low!" cried Lloyd, reaching forward to take it.

"Mom Beck must have wrapped it so, to keep the dust out of the carving.