Meantime they had been active, and each had gathered a fair quantity of pretty flowers—­arbutus, violets, anemones, and cherry blooms; to which Teresa and Elsie insisted upon adding buttercups and even dandelions.  Now the sun was going down, and they gaily turned their steps toward home.

III.

“A happy May-day!” the children called to one another the next morning, as they set out, at a very early hour, upon their pleasant round of floral gift-leaving.  Before doing so, however, each had held a special conference with Ellen.

“Yes, I’ve managed it.  Won’t everybody be surprised?” she quietly agreed again and again.  And yet how surprised everybody would be only sportive Ellen knew.

At half-past seven they reassembled for breakfast, which Elsie and Will took with their cousins.  What a comparing of notes there was during the meal!  Teresa had been caught hanging a basket at her little friend, Mollie Emerson’s.  Will’s mother had seen him dodging round the corner after fastening one on the front gate for her.

“O Joe! what did you do with that beautiful basket you arranged with so much care,—­the large one with the freshest flowers, I mean?” asked Frances, with an ingenious air.

“Never mind!” answered Joe laconically, helping himself to another glass of milk.

Everyone stole a knowing look at Ellen, without noticing that everyone else was doing so; but that young lady imperturbably buttered a second muffin, and studiously fixed her eyes on the tablecloth.

“Come, there is the Mass bell ringing!” called Mr. Moore from the hall.  A stampede followed.  To be late for Mass on May-day would be inexcusable.

Shortly afterward, our friends filed into the Moore’s family pew in the village church.  As Joe knelt down he turned his gaze with a gentle, happy expression to the Blessed Virgin’s shrine.  The next moment he started, and cast a glance of pleased inquiry toward Ellen.  His sister smiled back at him, then bowed her head to recover her gravity.  Hanging from the altar-rail, directly before the statue of Our Lady, was Joe’s handsomest May-basket, just as he knew it would be; for he had fastened it there himself the first thing in the morning.  But there also were five other pretty baskets,—­the offering which each of his sisters and cousins had made, unknown to one another.  The pleasant discovery created a momentary flutter in the pew, but that was all—­then.

So this was Ellen’s surprise!  Each silently admitted that it was a good one.  When they left the church, however, they had a merry time over it.

“But, Ellen, how did you know what I was going to do with my basket?” asked Joe at last.

“I didn’t until I heard you humming the new May hymn which we learned last Sunday,” replied Ellen; “that reminded me of what mother said about the old May customs.  I wondered if you were thinking of this too, and presently it all flashed upon me.”