So they both went to sleep, and Johnny Bear from that time on wept no more.
The next morning, Ethelwyn joyfully told Hannah and Peter all about it. Their praise was unstinted enough to suit even her swelling heart, and she proudly took the saucer of cream to Johnny, saying, "There, darling, everybody loves you now, even Peter and Hannah and Nancy, because you did your duty so nobly. I knew you would, so I loved you all the time."
"Miss Ethelwyn," said Nancy, appearing, "there are callers in the drawing-room, and your grandmother wishes you to come in."
Ethelwyn went in, and was presented to several of the ladies of the church, who had come to see about a reception to be given to the clergyman and his new young wife. It was, Ethelwyn found with joy, to be given at Grandmother Van Stark's.
"O may I stay up?" she begged, and grandmother, who always found it hard to deny her grandchildren anything, said she might. When evening came, Ethelwyn dressed in her best white frock, a little later than the hour when she usually went to bed, came down the staircase with grandmother, who was more stately and lovely than ever? In her black velvet gown, with the great portrait brooch of Grandfather Van Stark, surrounded by diamonds, in the beautiful old lace around her neck.
Grandmother was permitted to sit while receiving the guests. Between her chair and where the clergyman and his wife stood, Ethelwyn slipped her own little rocker, and sat there, highly interested in the streams of people that came by.
"It's like a funeral," she announced during a slight lull.
Grandmother and the clergyman looked around startled.
"Why, child, what do you know about funerals?" asked grandmother, while the clergyman, of course, laughed.
"'Vada took me and Beth once to a big mercession, and we went into a big church and the folks all went up and looked at somebody, just like to-night. 'Vada said it was a big gun's funeral, just like you and your wife, you know," she concluded cheerfully, nodding to the clergyman.