"But are you sure it is all right; it was such a little note, and yours was so thick?" said Margery as they arose.
"All right; it was little, but it was enough," said Mr. Dean, taking out the note and refolding it carefully to restore it to his pocket. And Margery went home pondering the mysterious ways of grown people. She was quite sure that she should never have been satisfied with such a tiny note in reply to a long letter.
Margery went to bed early that night, needing rest after a long and wearing day. She lay in her little white bed looking out at the soft summer twilight in which her two friends, whom she had been the means of reuniting, were that moment walking and talking after a separation of ten years. The stars shone down on her peacefully, and the one bright one that she called "her star" looked right into her eyes.
"It's glad, too, that everything is happy, and Mr. Dean is going to stay. It's smiling good-night."
And smiling back to it, Margery passed into happy dreams.