"I am happier than either," said Susie, a great joy lighting up her face. "Isn't it like a story, Sadie?"
"Yes," said Sadie, excitedly. "I was there when she came. The Squire came to Florence's door and asked, 'Shall I bring in the portrait?' We looked around, and there stood Bessie. I shall never forget Florence's face as she rushed forward, nor the Squire's as he said, 'She has come to live with us, Florence.' The first I knew I was crying away as hard as could be, Florence was on her knees, the Squire had his arm round Bessie, and—and—"
"What next?" asked Susie, her face growing more and more bright as she listened.
"Oh, they're so happy! When I came away, the Squire had an arm around each, and said, 'I've got two daughters now'; and they made a lovely picture. Nothing in the May party compared with it. Then Florence said, 'Won't you take this note to Susie, as you go by her house, and tell her how happy I am, if any words can tell?' But how late it's getting! Good-by." Then, coming back: "I forgot to say they want you to come over the first thing in the morning. Florence told her uncle that it was through your unselfishness that she was made Queen, and she keeps saying she owes Bessie to you. I don't half understand it, but I know it was lovely in you to give up the honor;" and off she ran.
"I can hear the word honor now, and not shut my ears to it," thought Susie; and with Florence's note in her hands, and papa's crown on her head, she murmured, "My cup runneth over."
THE END.
