"Doesn't she know?"
"Not a whisper. It's always to be a secret who gave it to her. We feared that she might feel as if we thought she had been begging, if she knew the names of the senders,—she is so extremely sensitive. So we just tied a card to the case, and wrote on it, 'From your loving friends.'"
"That's reg'lar splendid, and I want my five dollars to help pay for it, too."
"But, Peace,—" Gail began.
"There ain't any 'but' to it," declared the small sister with determination. "I was the one who found her, and I mean to help."
"Very well," sighed Gail, studying the stubborn little chin and knowing that Peace would gain her point in some way, even if denied the privilege of contributing her one gold piece. "You surely did set the ball rolling, for Mrs. Selwyn says your little author lady will make her mark in the world before many years."
"Yes, I guess she will make a mark on the world, too," Peace agreed complacently, "for now Benny's going to be like other children, and the mother won't be so sick any more. Doesn't everything end just splendid?"
"Yes, my darling," whispered Gail to herself, "when you are around."