There were others, however, whose delight could not be repressed.  Tim Kelsey, after the proper greetings were over, had wandered off down the room, stopping to examine each article in its place on the walls.  Finally some pieces of old Delft caught his eye.  He made a memorandum of two in a little book he took from his inside pocket, and later on, when a break in the surrounding conversation made it possible, remarked to Felix:  “They seem to get everything in the new Delft but the old delicious glaze.  On a wall it doesn’t matter, but you don’t feel like putting real old Delft on a wall.  I like to stroke it, as I would a friend’s hand.”

These inspections and comments over, and that peculiar timidity which comes over certain classes lifted out of their customary environment and doing their best to become accustomed to new surroundings having begun to wear away under the tactful welcome of Felix, and the hour having arrived for the grand ceremony of gift-giving, the throne was pushed back, Masie called from behind her screen, and O’Day’s wicker basket filled with the presents was laid by the side of the big chair.

Kling and Kitty were now beckoned to and placed on the left of the throne, Felix taking up his position on the right.

The stir on the platform caused by these arrangements soon attracted everybody’s attention and a sudden hush fell upon the room.  What was about to happen nobody knew, but something important, or Mr. O’Day would not have stepped to its edge, nor would Otto have been so red in the face, nor Kitty so radiant.

Felix raised his hand to command supreme silence.

“Masie wishes me,” he began in his low, even voice, “to tell you that she has done her best to remember every one, and that she hopes nobody has been forgotten.  These little trifles she is about to give you are not gifts, but just little mementos to express her thanks for your kindness in coming to her first party.  She bids me tell you, too, that her love goes out to every one of you on this the happiest night of her life and that she welcomes you all with her whole heart.”

He turned, stepped back a pace, made the radiant child a low bow, held out his hand, and led her into full view of the audience, the rays of the big lantern softening the tones of the quaint, picturesque costume which concealed her slight figure, transforming the child of eleven into the woman of eighteen.

For at least ten seconds, and that is a long period of time when your heart is in your mouth and you are ready to explode with uncontrollable delight, not a sound of any kind broke the silence, no handclap of welcome, no murmur of applause; just plain, simple astonishment, the kind that takes your breath away.  That Kling’s little girl stood before them, nobody believed.  O’Day had fooled them with this new vision, just as he had bewitched them by the glamour of the decorated room.  Only when a few simple words of welcome fell from her lips were the flood-gates