172 THE WALL OF SHELLS. 
From another pocket she brought out a 
handful of tiny points. “What are these?” . 
she asked. “Are they ivory tusks of fairy 
elephants, or horns of baby unicorns?” And 
the rippling sound they made as they passed 
through her fingers pleased her ears as perhaps 
the “jingle” of these Dentalian “guineas” 
please the ear of the Indian money getter. The 
value of Dentalia, or “ toothshells,” she learned, 
was determined by the length of the shells. 
Later that evening, when Undine and Tom 
had sailed away to the universe of dreams, Dr. 
McLean with Miss Bremely paused before the 
open door of the library. Mr. Bremely sat 
within, a book was open before him, but he 
could not read. His heart was stirred with a 
mighty past. An angel had come down that 
evening and troubled its waters. 
The flush upon Miss Bremely’s cheeks was 
again like the pink tint of shells, and dimples 
played among her blushes, while Dr. McLean 
looked as happy as a king; yet enigmatical as 
it seemed, they assured Mr. Bremely they came 
because they were in sore trouble. The doce- 
tor had learned, like Undine, that he could not 
spare Miss Bremely; and she that she could 
not spare Dr. Lean; and both, like the chil- 
dren, that they “could not spare anybody.” 
