Our play was written for us by Mr. Robert Pierce, Amy’s brother, who goes to Harvard, and he brought in both our pets, and the cat and parrot, and had in ever so many hits which Bloomdale folks could enjoy, knowing all about them.

The only thing which interfered with my pleasure was that mother was not here, and I had expected her home.  I nearly cried into the lemonade, and almost blistered the icing of the pound-cake with tears; but seeing grandmamma gaze at me with a whole exclamation point in her eyes, I gave myself a mental shake, and said, not aloud, but in my mind:  “Don’t be a baby, Milly Van Doren!  A big girl like you!  Be good!  There, now!”

But I was not the most unhappy girl when, just after my part in the play was over, I heard a little movement in the audience, and saw a stirring as of surprise at the other end of the room.

Who was that?  A sweet face in a Quaker bonnet, a white kerchief folded primly over a gown of dove-colored satin, a pure plain dress, looking very distinguished, for all its simplicity, among the gay toilet of the “world’s people.”

Surely, no—­yes, it was, it could be no one but mother!

I threaded my way through the crowded aisles, gentlemen and ladies opening a path for me, and before everybody I was clasped in her dear arms.  And there was father smiling down at me, and saying, as mother told me, to be composed, for I was half crying, half laughing:  “Of course she’ll be composed.  I have always said thee could trust our little lass.”

I squeezed myself into a seat between the two darlings, forgetful that I was the President of the Clover Leaf Club; and there I sat till the play was over, when something happened that was not on the programme.

A tall shabby form advanced to the front of the room, and mounted the stage.

It was Jack Roper!  We held our breath.  What did this mean?

“I want, fellow-townsmen and ladies,” said Jack, with the utmost coolness, “to return thanks to the Clover Leaf young ladies for the good example they’ve been a settin’ our wives and darters.  Them girls is trumps!”

Down sat Jack in a storm of applause.  This speech, if not elegant, was at least sincere.

He was followed by a very different personage.  No less a man than Judge Curtis arose and gave us a little address, after which Amy Pierce and Lois Partridge played a duet on the piano.

Then the refreshments were distributed.  There was a merry time talking and laughing over the feast, and we all went home.  Miss Muffet looked radiant, she had so many compliments, and Aunt Hetty, who appeared in her stiffest calico, was not backward in accepting some for herself.  Though what she had done, except try my patience, it was puzzling to us to tell.

My precious mother had the very prettiest surprise of all for us when her trunks were opened.  It is her way to make people happy, and she goes through the world like an angel.