A day or two later a huge box of violets arrived by special messenger for Miss Georgia Ames. The parlor-maid was new to the ways of the house (this Bob had counted upon in ordering the flowers), and without looking at the name on the box, she laid it on the table in the front hall. There it stayed all day, stared at and sighed over by envious passersby, who easily guessed the character of its contents and lamented that, having been sent to the wrong address, a bunch of violets as big as this one must hide its sweetness under a bushel.