Then came a moment’s pause.  Peggy understood and Mrs. Harold’s intuition served her.  She nodded to Dr. Llewellyn, and none there ever forgot the light which illumined the fine old face as he bowed his head and said softly in his beautifully modulated voice as though speaking to a loved companion.

“Father, for a world so beautiful, for a day so perfect, for the joy and privilege of association with these young people, and the new life which they infuse into ours, we older ones thank Thee.  Bring into their lives all that is finest, truest, purest and best—­true manhood and womanhood.  Amen.”

Not a boy or girl but felt the beauty of those simple words and remembered them for many a day.

The grove was not far enough from the house to chance the ruin of any of Aunt Cynthia’s dainties.  A grassy path led straight to it from her kitchen and at the conclusion of Dr. Llewellyn’s grace Peggy nodded slightly to Jerome who in turn nodded to Mammy Lucy, who passed the nod along to some invisible individual, the series of nods bringing about a result which nearly wrecked the dignity of the entire party, for out from behind the long brick building in which Aunt Cynthia ruled supreme, filed a row of little darkies each burdened with a dish, each bare-footed, each immaculate in little white shirt and trousers, each solemnly rolling eyes, the whites of which rivaled his shirt, and each under Cynthia’s dire threat of having his “haid busted wide open if he done tripped or spilled a thing,” walking as though treading upon eggs.

Along they came, their eyes fixed upon Jerome, for literally they were “between the devil and the deep sea,” Jerome and Cynthia being at the beginning and end of that path.  Jerome and Mammy received and placed each steaming dish, the very personification of dignity, and in nowise disconcerted by the titter, which soon broke into a full-lunged shout, at the piccaninnies’ solemn faces.

It was all too much for good Captain Pennell and the boys, and any “ice” which might possibly have congealed the party, was then and there smashed to smithereens.

“Great!  Great!” shouted Captain Pennell, clapping his hands like a boy.

“Eh, this is going some,” cried Happy.

“Bully for Chatelaine Peggy!” was Wheedles’ outburst.

“Who says Severndale isn’t all right?” echoed Ralph.

“Peggy, this is simply delicious,” praised Mrs. Harold.

Peggy glowed and Jerome and Mammy beamed, while the little darkies beat a grinning retreat to confide excitedly to Aunt Cynthia: 

“Dem gemmens an’ ladies yonder in de grove was so mighty pleased dat dey jist nachally bleiged fer ter holler and laugh.”

Far from proving drawbacks to the feast the captain and the doctor entered heart and soul into the frolic, the doctor as host, slyly nodding to the ever alert Jerome or Mammy to replenish plates, the captain waxing reminiscent and telling many an amusing tale, and Mrs. Harold beaming happily upon all, while to and from Cynthia’s realm ran the little darkies full of enthusiasm for “dem midshipmen mens who suah could eat fried chicken, corn fritters, glazed sweet ’taters, and waffles nuff fer ter bust most mens.”