“I will,” said the boy soberly, “if anyone really cares.”
“God cares.” Rosemary spoke soberly, too. “Your mother cares, and I care. That should be enough.”
“Yes,” said Willie huskily, “it is enough.”
Next morning there was a gypsy party in Danby Force’s garden. Over a brightly glowing fire luscious steaks were broiling. The aroma of coffee and all manner of good things to eat filled the air. Jeanne was there and Florence, Willie, Rosemary, Madame Bihari, Danby Force and his mother—a very merry party indeed. By the help of all, a cloud had been driven away from the skies above Happy Vale. Why should they not be merry?
“Tomorrow,” Florence said to Danby Force at the end of the glorious evening, “I shall fly away with my little gypsy friend, Petite Jeanne. I shall not return. But wherever I am, whatever I do, I shall not forget Happy Vale.”
“Nor shall Happy Vale ever forget you,” Danby replied solemnly.
And what happened next to all these people who have become your friends? Well, if you watch for a book called The Crystal Ball and read it you will hear more about them.
Transcriber’s Notes
- Copyright notice provided as in the original printed text—this e-text is public domain in the country of publication.
- Silently corrected palpable typos; left non-standard spellings and dialect unchanged.
- In the text versions, included italics inside _underscores_ (the HTML version replicates the format of the original.)