Fred had been requested by his sister to take his supper downtown, as she felt that the girls would feel more at their ease without his presence. When the bright-faced maid announced supper, Miss Benton took Gretta by the hand, and said, as they all entered the dining-room, "'We are seven,' and, I presume, if Wordsworth were here, he would write a poem about us."
As the five friends took their places, they simultaneously burst into an exclamation of delight. At each of their places was a bunch of flowers, with a card on which was a pretty little painting in water-colors of a young girl, with fair hair streaming over her shoulders, in full armor, receiving from an angel a sword. Underneath were the words in old English text, in scarlet and gold, "He that overcometh shall inherit all things."
The cards were exactly alike, but the flowers were different. Miriam had a glorious red rose, with buds and leaves; Gretta, garden daisies and primroses; Fannie, scarlet geraniums, a calla lily and a wild jack-in-the-pulpit; Ernestine, lilies of the valley; Winnie, ferns and mignonette. Mrs. Benton lifted caressingly to her face a bunch of English violets, and their hostess pinned on her bodice a cluster of yellow rosebuds.
"Oh, Aunt Kitty, what a hunt you must have had among the florists and markets for all these flowers!" said Winnie.
"And how well you have suited us all!" cried Miriam.
"What is this, Miss Benton?" asked Fannie, holding up the jack-in-the-pulpit.
"That is a wild-flower," replied Miss Benton, giving the blossom its name, "which was sent me from Tennessee this week; it does not bloom quite so early here. If you will examine it and compare it with your calla, you will see many points of resemblance; indeed, they are of the same family, although the splendid Egyptian calla has all the advantages of climate, water and sun, which make it the handsome thing it is. But our little American Jack, all the same, lifts its head out of its green pulpit and preaches to us of the eternal kinship of all things. Put your geraniums in your button hole, and after tea I'll put your calla and its country cousin in water for you to keep fresh till you go home."
"How did you know I was fond of lilies of the valley, Miss Benton?" asked Ernestine. "It is my mother's favorite flower, too; she says they used to grow in great clumps in the yard of her home when she was a girl, and she never sees one without thinking of her childhood."
"Of course I couldn't know that, my dear; I only thought that you would like them. Although I had never met any of you I have heard Winnifred talk about you, and her little tongue sometimes gives me queer ideas," said Miss Benton, smiling at her niece with an air of good comradeship.
"Mother, let Winnie serve the chocolate, while I attend to this end of the table. You see, girls, we only have the maid bring in the dishes from the kitchen, for we like to wait on each other," she said, helping them to chicken croquettes, cold ham, and delicious muffins, as Winnie passed around the chocolate in dainty china cups.