She looked very fair and sweet in the sunset-light that showered through the birches . Her wedding gown was a fine , sheer organdie , simply and daintily made . In the loose waves of her bright hair she wore her bridegroom 's flowers , roses as white as a virgin 's dream . She was very happy ; but her happiness was faintly threaded with the sorrow inseparable from all change . Presently her mother came in , carrying a small basket . `` Here is something for you , Rachel . One of the boys from the harbor brought it up . He was bound to give it into your own hands -- said that was his orders . I just took it and sent him to the right-about -- told him I 'd give it to you at once , and that that was all that was necessary . '' She spoke coldly . She knew quite well who had sent the basket , and she resented it ; but her resentment was not quite strong enough to overcome her curiosity . She stood silently by while Rachel unpacked the basket . Rachel 's hands trembled as she took off the cover . Two huge pink-spotted shells came first . How well she remembered them ! Beneath them , carefully wrapped up in a square of foreign-looking , strangely scented silk , was the dragon teapot . She held it in her hands and gazed at it with tears gathering thickly in her eyes . `` Your father sent that , '' said Isabella Spencer with an odd sound in her voice . `` I remember it well . It was among the things I packed up and sent after him .
His father had brought it home XXXXX China fifty years ago , and he prized it beyond anything .
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