Hardly had Miss Ruth had time to thank the Club, when the Gray Owl handed to Elsa a long, white business-like looking envelope addressed to “Miss Ruth Warren, President of the Christmas Makers’ Club.” The excitement of Elsa’s manner made the others look on again with keenest interest.
What was their delight and rapture to have Miss Ruth read a legal paper, presenting to the Club, from Elsa Danforth, the gift, for the exclusive use of the Club, of a log-hut on a certain piece of wood property on Berkeley Avenue.
“The hut! The hut! All our own!” cried Betty, whirling around again like a lively red balloon. And then they all began talking at once and very fast about furnishing the hut, of keeping some dolls and dishes there, even of having a fireplace built so they could use the hut for meetings in cold weather!
Elsa, whose thought this gift of the hut had been—although her Uncle Ned had carried it out, with Ben’s help—stood enjoying to the full the happiness of the Club, when suddenly, with a long, low hoo-oo-t! the Gray Owl, flapping his wings, landed in front of her. Bowing low, he said: “Princess, the Gray Owl begs that you will allow him to live with you here, in Berkeley, from this time forth.”
“Uncle Ned! Do you really mean it?” she begged, lifting her flower-like face and beseeching gray eyes to his.
“Yes, the Gray Owl really means it. He will not be a cross Gray Owl, though, so keep a good heart, Princess,” he answered, making believe he thought she did not want him to live with her, for he had seen tears start under her long eyelashes. Then, because he knew that many exciting things had happened to his little niece that day, he drew her toward him and held her under the shelter of his soft gray wings.
Of all the surprises that Christmas had brought to Elsa, this last one was the best. It was far more than the knowledge that she had a great deal of money even though she was happy in the thought that she could help the convalescent children with that money; it was more than the great satisfaction of having Bettina March come back into her life, more than the gift of the little old lady’s doll and all the many other Christmas presents put together:—more than all these; for she loved her Uncle Ned better than she loved anybody else in the whole wide world. And she drew back within the shelter of the wide wings in supreme content.
THE END.
BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE