Dorothy's House Party

“Leah – that’s Luna? How can she do a thing like that?”

“Well, it can be done in her name, I reckon. Just as this was Dorothy’s and somebody else managed it; eh, lassie? The Friends speak when the Spirit moves. At last, by the power of grief and remorse, by the power of Love, the Spirit of unselfishness and humility has moved upon the heart of Oliver Sands. One is never too old to learn; and, thank God, some are never too old to acknowledge their ignorance! He isn’t, and to prove it he is doing this thing. His messengers are speeding everywhere. Caterers from Newburgh have had hurry-up orders to provide a bountiful feast and old Heartsease Farm is to be the scene of an ‘Infair’ that will beat Dorothy’s to – smithereens! I mean, begging her ladyship’s pardon, in point of size. Leah is to be the guest of honor, since she cannot preside; but be sure she’ll not disgrace her proud brother since at Dorothy’s Party she has learned how harmless are even strangers. Yes, I can safely say that Leah made her debut with us. Now, who’ll accept? Don’t all speak at once!”

But they did. So joyfully, so earnestly, that the Master clapped hands over ears and, laughing, hurried away, while Mrs. Calvert beamed upon them all, the dearest hostess who had ever lived – so one and all declared.

The scene at Heartsease? It is useless even to try to depict that. Sufficient to say it was a marvelous Party; and he who marveled most was the giver of the Party himself. Because where he might easily have expected absences and “regrets” came hastening guests to shake him by the hand, to forgive hard dealings, to rejoice with him that she who had been lost, in every sense, had been found.

And when, at last, the young folks from Deerhurst tore themselves away and walked homeward over the moonlit road, it was with the feeling that this last outing of their Week of Days had been the dearest and the best.

Partings? They had to come; but when on the Saturday morning the last guest had disappeared and Dorothy stood alone beside Aunt Betty on the broad piazza, there might be tears in her brown eyes, but there was no real heaviness in her heart.

God had given her a home. He had given her this dear old lady to love and serve, and the girl had already learned that there is joy only in Loving Service.

THE END