She was surprised to find all of her guests following them, but she had no suspicions. They went out of the front door, and walked around through the side yard to the back of the house. What was Mrs. Owen’s surprise to see a sign on the hen-house, painted in red letters, outlined in white:
HOTEL HENNERY
she read. “Why, how amazing!” she said.
“It’s Mr. Farrell’s present to you, mother,” Peggy said. “He has been working at home, painting that board, and he put it up while you were at Mr. Thornton’s. Isn’t it a nice sign?”
As Mrs. Owen came near the hen-house, she stood still, in amazement. It seemed as if something was the matter with her eyes, and she was seeing double. For there, walking about the netted-in hen-yard, with an air of being completely at home, were not only Henry and Henrietta Cox, but two others, closely resembling Henrietta.
“They are Henrietta’s cousins,” Peggy explained, “the Henderson sisters, Charity and Hope, and Faith is inside the house.” Sure enough, there was Faith and another lady from Rhode Island whom Peggy introduced to her mother as Biddy Henshaw. But who was the seventh feathered person walking out of the door? Peggy counted again—yes, there were the three Hendersons and Biddy Henshaw—that made four; and Rhoda Rhodes, and her own dear Henrietta, and Henry Cox—six hens and a cock—there were surely seven hens. Where did the seventh come from? She counted them over and over again. There were seven. Who had brought the seventh? She asked everybody. No one knew. Suddenly, she knew as well as if she had been told. It must have been old Michael. He had brought it as a surprise when he came with the sign. And the hen’s name flashed into her mind.
“Mother,” she said, “this is Angelica Seraphina Hen-Farrell.”
“What a silly name!” said Clara.
“I’m tired of giving them sensible names,” said Peggy.
And so the surprise party turned into a surprise for Peggy herself. Peggy had asked old Michael to come to the surprise party, but he had refused.