“Oh, dear, dear, dear!” she gasped to Mrs. Fargo, after the feast was over, “it seems as if I couldn’t bear any more bliss. But do look at Charlotte Chatterton and Ben. Now will you tell me there is nothing in it?”
“I didn’t say there was nothing in it,” said Mrs. Fargo with a keen glance at the two.
“But you were cool as an oyster when I tried to tell you about it long ago,” retorted Alexia. “Oh, dear me!—well, we mustn’t stand here talking; they are going to dedicate the studio now, and lay the corner-stone.”
And when this was over, and the block of marble from Roslyn’s studio from across the sea was laid in place on the old Badgertown meadow, to be made famous over two continents, then, at a signal from Rev. Mr. Henderson, the little children from the Dunraven Home marched around Phronsie and her husband, each giving her a white rose as they passed. And Susan sent all her young heart into her “Welcome-Home” song; and everybody applauded her, but she saw only Phronsie’s smile.
“Whoever would have thought that little black creature, that terrorized us all so that Christmas Day at Dunraven, would turn out such a beautiful singer?” said David.
“A good many things turn out differently from what we expect,” said Mamsie with a smile, “and that’s the best of it.”
Joel looked into Amy Loughead’s blue eyes, “Yes, that’s the best of it,” he said.
Well, the best of all this beautiful fête was yet to come. It was at sundown, when some of the people, those who had far to drive, were beginning to talk of going home, and were gathering up their little children and saying “good-by.” Jasper called “Attention!” and announced that his brother, Mr. Roslyn May, had something to say to them all. So they turned back where he stood with Phronsie by his side in the centre of the lawn; and when the large circle was formed, and all was quite still, he said in a strong, clear voice,—
“My wife wishes me to tell you that she desires to mark this beautiful day by a gift to the people of Badgertown, to show her love for you all. She has therefore asked her brother Jasper to buy for her the Peters homestead, and all the land belonging to it, and to keep this purchase a secret until to-day. Added to this, she presents to the town this check,” he held it aloft,—those who were nearest could see that there were several figures upon its face,—“that a free library may be built and maintained, imposing only one condition, and that is, that the name of the library shall be the ‘Horatio King Library of Badgertown.’ Mr. Bunce, as first selectman, will you take charge of this bit of paper?”
Didn’t the people cheer then! The echo of it seemed to reach to Badgertown’s very centre. And some one ran down and set the church-bell to ringing again, a merry peal. And with those joyful notes in their ears, the country folk drove home to their farmhouses, casting many a backward glance at the “Five Little Peppers,” and the little brown house, over which the golden gleams of the setting sun were falling.