If that mother should ever come back how could I face her," she had
asked very seriously. "She'd know it was my fault--because I left
them! I wish--I wish babies never had to be left--without mothers!"
Thereupon had taken shape the determination in Nonie's heart to some
day have ten children whom she would never, never leave--not for a
moment!

"Don't forget the fairy godmother, Nonie, and her wand. Some day
she'll turn your old dress into gold cloth and put a crown upon your
head." Nancy made her tone light; she could not bear to see the shadow
on the child's face. She jumped down from the tree.

"I've just thought of the loveliest plan! Nonie, let's have a party at
Happy House!"

"A _real_ party?"

"Yes, a real party--with lots and _lots_ to eat! It's too warm for
velvet, but how would you like to wear a white dress of mine that's
dreadfully small for me? I'm sure Aunt Milly's clever fingers can fix
it over. B'lindy shall make a cake--like the Governor had, and Aunt
Sabrina shall get out all the old silver and linen."

Nonie's face said plainly that she could not believe her ears!

"Honest?" she whispered, glancing toward Aunt Milly.

"Well----" Nancy laughed. "Of course, we'll have to consult Aunt
Sabrina and Aunt Milly and B'lindy. Suppose we cough very loudly--then
Aunt Milly will waken!"

An hour earlier, as Nancy sat in the Nest making notes here and there
upon her manuscript, the thought of the party had not entered her head.
But once there, it grew rapidly. Besides, her heart was very light;
she wanted everyone else to celebrate with her--her play was done! She
had worked day and night; the tiny shadows under her eyes told that.
But in her exultation any physical weariness was forgotten.

In the still hours of the night before she had dashed off a sleepy line
to Claire..... "The Gypsy Sweetheart is done. Darling, pray for me!
My fate lies in those pages. I may soon be with you at
Merrycliffe--that is, if you still want me."

The last line was an afterthought. That day a curious letter had come
from Claire, perplexing to Nancy because Claire's usual complaining
tone had given place to mysterious rejoicing. "I can't tell you
_anything_, Nancy, because I promised I wouldn't, but some day you're
going to know. I'm the most wildly happy girl in the world," and
beyond that the maddening creature had written nothing. "I believe
she's engaged," thought Nancy, indignant and hurt, too, tha