And while Harry was thanking her she turned to Chub.

“Ain’t there any little thing you’d like to take along, sir?” she asked, eagerly. “I do wish you’d select something. I suppose there isn’t much here you’d care for, but—”

“Indeed there is, Mrs. Peel,” Chub assured her heartily, “but I’m not going to take anything. I thank you just the same.”

Mrs. Peel’s eyes were ranging the store again, and Chub nudged Harry and moved toward the door.

“Just a minute, sir!” And Mrs. Peel hurried away to one of the farther shelves, returning in a moment, looking highly pleased with herself. “There,” she said, “just you take that, sir. It’s a real pretty bit of china, ain’t it? Course that sentiment don’t mean anything. Unless,” she added, half shyly, “you want it should, sir.”

The gift was a pale pink mustache-cup, decorated with green leaves and purple flowers, and bearing the inscription in funny gilt lettering, “Friendship’s Token.” Chub glanced at Harry, whose eyes were dancing merrily and yet looked a trifle misty, and then at Mrs. Peel. Apparently,