“I—I don’t know,” stammered Marjorie. “I—I thought perhaps you would like it. I couldn’t resist putting it on your doorstep. We were all making May baskets to hang on one another’s doors. I thought of you. I knew you loved flowers, because I had seen you working among them. That’s all.”
“No, that was only the beginning.” Miss Susanna released Marjorie’s hands. “It gave me much to think of for many months; in fact until a little girl put aside her own plans to help a poor old lady pick up a basket of spilled chrysanthemums.”
Appearing a trifle embarrassed at her own rush of sentiment, Miss Hamilton turned to the others and proceeded briskly to seat her guests at table. While she occupied the place at the head, she gave Marjorie that at the foot. Lifting the little basket at her place to inhale the perfume of the flowers, something dropped therefrom. It struck against the thin water glass at her place with a little clang. Next instant she was exclaiming over a dainty lace pin of purple enameled violets with tiny diamond centers.
“I would advise all of you to do a little exploring.” Miss Susanna’s voice held a note of suppressed excitement.
Obeying with the zest of girlhood, the others found pretty lace pins of gold and silver, chosen with a view toward suiting the personality of each.
As Marjorie fastened her new possession on the bodice of the violet-tinted crêpe gown, which had been Mah Waeo’s gift to her father for her, she had a feeling of living in a fairy tale. Hamilton Arms had always seemed as an enchanted castle to her. She had never expected to penetrate its fastnesses and become an honored guest within its walls.
“Miss Susanna, when did you first guess that it was I who left you a May basket?” she asked, rather curiously. “Lucy and Jerry said you would find me out. I didn’t think so.”
“It was after Christmas, Marjorie,” the old lady replied. “Perhaps it was the bunch of violets on the wreath you girls sent for Uncle Brooke’s study that established the connection. I really can’t say. It dawned upon me all of a sudden one evening. I spoke of it to Jonas. The old rascal simply said: ‘Oh, yes. I have thought so for a long time.’ Not a word to me of it had he peeped. It furnished me with pleasant thoughts for so long, I decided that one good turn deserves another. I succeeded in surprising you children tonight, but no one could have been more astonished than I when I gathered in that blessed violet basket last May Day night.”
CHAPTER XXVII—CONCLUSION
“And tomorrow is another day; the great day!” Leila Harper sat with clasped hands behind her head, fondly viewing her chums.