the pride of the Island," he muttered, seeing
in its restored trimness something of its old-time beauty. "But it's
young hands that's needed."

"It's beautiful, _now_," Nancy had declared. "It's the loveliest
garden I ever saw, Jonathan," and she thought of Nonie's quaint words:
"Jonathan puts in seeds that grow into pretty flowers and he's ugly!"
Yes, the wrinkled, leathery face under the old hat was not beautiful,
and yet something of the beauty of the flowers he grew was reflected in
the expression of the old eyes that bent so tenderly over them.

"That's life," reflected Nancy, indulging in a moment's philosophizing.
"It's really what we think and do that makes us beautiful or not
beautiful!"

They had worked late; the long shadows of the afternoon danced in lacy
patterns over the gray walls of the house. Nancy, watching them,
thought of that first disappointment she had felt upon viewing Happy
House. Then it had seemed an ugly pile of stones, severely lined. Now
it was more like a breathing Thing. It had sheltered and seen shaped
so many lives; it held a future, too; it must stand protectingly for
others after Aunt Milly and Aunt Sabrina had gone!

It had, now, with its blinds fastened back, an awakened, expectant
look, as of eyes suddenly opened after a long, long sleep.

Then into Nancy's happy meditations flashed the disturbing thought that
nothing about the garden or the house belonged in any way to her!

"It's just _like_ me to forget," she declared aloud, shouldering her
hoe and turning toward the carriage barn. "And like me to get fond of
it all!"

"Anyway, Nonie'll have her party, and even if there isn't a harp and a
velvet train there'll be lots to eat or B'lindy's name isn't B'lindy.
I wonder," and Nancy addressed the distant outline of the Judson's
barns, "how Peter Hyde'll _ever_ act at a tea-party!"

CHAPTER XVIII

THE PARTY

Very early, on the morning of the day of the party, Nancy and Aunt
Milly and B'lindy and Jonathan and Nonie and Davy and Peter Hyde, each,
scanned a sunny, cloudless sky with relief and joy.

"Well, it isn't going to rain, anyway," each thought.

Even Miss Sabrina, lifting her shade slowly, felt her pulse beat more
quickly as a sunbeam danced into her face. This day was a new day for
Happy House; she could not count the years since a "party" had been
given in her home; her old hands trembled now as she dressed hurriedly.
"_What_ if something goes wron