“And the sooner we’ll fly, the better I’ll like it,” added Joshua. “This very afternoon would suit me.”
But Lauretta Ann had determined upon two things: she was going to buy the material for a black silk gown in New York, also a handsome china jar to contain the remains of the pewter tea-pot and be “a moniment to Aunt Jimmy,” in the centre of the India china on the living-room mantel-shelf. Mrs. O’More, sullenly accepting her defeat, and now in her element, which was buying dress goods, offered to conduct the stranger through the mazes of Sixth Avenue department stores; so after a hasty lunch they set out, while her husband and Joshua Lane talked matters over, and the children were in a seventh heaven of anticipation.
“One thing’s on me mind,—that ring the girl sold to buy doctorin’ for Billy. I only hope she got the worth of it, and that the man’s on the square, for she won’t give me the name of the gent that bought it, and when I’m picked a bit out o’ me trouble, I’d like to buy back the same, for the keepsake is her only fortune. Maybe some day you can coax the name out o’ her.”
“Likely I can—plenty o’ time for that,” drawled Joshua, who usually knew more than he appeared to.
******
The next afternoon five tired but happy people arrived at the Centre and electrified the neighbourhood by hiring a hack to take them to Laurelville, Joshua having only been persuaded to stay two days of the proposed week’s excursion.
“I’m goin’ to have Hope Snippin up to-morrow morning to shorten my gown,” was Mrs. Lane’s greeting to the minister’s wife when she opened the door in alarm at the unexpected return, while Twinkle leaped into Bird’s arms, fairly screaming with dog joy.
It was evident, however, that the sudden return was not wholly a surprise. Somebody had sent a telegram to somebody, and Joshua’s manner in the interval before supper cast the suspicion upon him. After Bird had seen her pretty room and coaxed Billy, who was nodding drowsily, to eat his bread and milk and go to bed before the real supper, she came down to the living-room, where the table was spread for the first time instead of in the kitchen, for Dinah Lucky came in a few hours every day now to do the heavy work and give Mrs. Lane more leisure. A stranger was sitting by the fire. He rose and took Bird by the hand very gently and drew her to the lounge beside him, at the same time handing her a letter. She was too much surprised to notice that no one introduced her or told his name. She opened the letter; her keepsake ring rolled into her lap as she read:—
“Dear Bertha O’More: I know all about you now, and I believed in you from the first. Here is your ring; wear it about your neck as before for a keepsake, until some day, ten years or so hence—then ask the one you love best to put it upon your left hand. With the respect of your friend,