“The happiest sight to me was the first salmon I landed!”
“A good and honest answer!” laughed Mrs. Betty, and like the president called: “Next!”
One after another the answers came; that of the surgeon being the memory of a wounded fawn whom he had cured and set at liberty again. The Judge’s happiest moment had been when he caught sight of Molly’s face on that dark night in the forest, when he dreaded lest he should see it no more alive and alight with love.
All had some answer to give, even Miss Greatorex, who wondered why they smiled when she recorded her blest experience in discovering a rare specimen of quartz. Surely, that was the very best gift she was bringing home to “the Rhinelander,” and wasn’t it a specimen worth the whole trip to a “foreign” land?
Even the youngsters were pressed to tell what they had found choicest and when Molly answered the question put to her, she spoke with a sweet solemnity: “The sound of Melvin’s bugle in the wilderness.”
There was a momentary silence. All were more moved than they could say, remembering how different a group this would have been had that bugle never blown “Assembly” in that far-away forest. Dorothy said nothing. Even when it came to her and the last “turn,” she could only turn her happy eyes to one and another of the loved faces before her and shake her head. There had been times out there on the Nova Scotia farm when she had not been happy; when the moods of “wondering” had disturbed her peace and made her discontent. That was all past now that she was reunited to Father John and Mother Martha and somehow, best of all, to that beautiful, white-haired “Fairy Godmother,” who had caught her to her breast in such a tender fashion and had even left tears of joy from the old, dark eyes upon her own upturned cheek. Why had she loved the lady so? Why did the clasp of her slender arms seem so much more than that of sturdy Mrs. Martha? Dorothy inwardly upbraided herself for the disloyal feeling, but she was too honest to deny even to herself that her dearest welcome home had come from one on whom she had no claim.
“Well, Dolly Doodles, it isn’t fair for all the rest to tell their part and you just sit mum and stare and stare and stare! Honey Doll, I’m ashamed of you!” cried Molly.
Thus goaded into speech, Dorothy answered: “The happiest thing I’ve known isn’t past, in the summer-time, but just right now and here. It’s coming home to Deerhurst and—YOU!”
She could not have helped it and she could not have explained why not; but there was a look in Mrs. Betty’s eyes, an appealing tenderness that went straight to the heart of the girl, who sped like an arrow shot from the hearth to a place in her hostess’s arms.
And again there was silence; while some of that goodly company exchanged most speaking glances. Then with a gesture prouder than the proudest she had ever given, Mrs. Calvert lifted her head and beckoned the Judge.