"Oh, _I_ was boasting aloud most of the time that I knew her intimately," Ann added, laughing. "Just being a neighbor and old friend shed a sort of glory even on me!" "Oh, well, it was the dearest concert ever," summarized Rosemary, contentedly. "The papers this morning say that the flowers were like an opera first night--though _I_ never saw any opera singer get so many here--and that hundreds were turned away!" "'Hundreds'!" repeated Mrs. Bancroft, chuckling at the absurdity of it. "Well, mamma, the hall WAS packed," Ted reminded her promptly. He grinned over some amusing memory. "...Old lady Barnes weeping over 'Nora Creina,'" he added. "Ann, I didn't tell you that Dad and I met Herr Muller at the gate this morning," said Rosemary, "shedding tears over the thought of some of the Franz songs, and blowing his nose on his blue handkerchief!" "And you certainly did look stunning, mamma," contributed Ted. "Children... children!" protested Mrs. Bancroft. But the pleased color flooded her cheeks. Another busy silence was broken by a triumphant exclamation from Theodore, who turned about from his table to announce: "Three hundred and seven dollars, ladies, and thirty-five cents, with old lady Baker still to hear from, and eight dollars to pay for the lights." "WHAT!" said the three women together. Theodore repeated the sum. "Nonsense!" cried Rosemary. "It CAN'T be so much." Mrs. Bancroft stared dazedly. "TWO hundred, Ted...?" she suggested. "Three hundred!" the boy repeated firmly, beaming sympathetically as both the young women threw themselves upon Mrs. Bancroft, and smothered her in ecstatic embraces. "Oh, Aunt Nell," said Ann, almost tearfully, "I don't know what the girls will SAY. Why, Rose, it'll all but clear the ward. It's three times what we thought!" "Your father will be pleased," said Mrs. Bancroft, winking a little suspiciously. "He's worried so about you girlies assuming that debt. I must go tell him." She began to gather her letters together. "Do you know where he is, Ted? Has he come in from his first round?" she asked. "She's the dearest...!" said Ann, when the door closed behind her. "There's nobody quite like your mother." "Honestly there isn't," assented Rosemary, thoughtfully. "When you think how unspoiled she is--with that heavenly voice of hers, you know, and every one so devoted to her. She doesn't do a THING, whether it's arranging flowers, or apron patterns, or managing the maids, that people don't admire and copy." "She can't wait now to tell father the news," commented Theodore, smiling. "He'll be perfectly enchanted," said Rosemary. "He sent her violets last night, and this morning, when we were taking all her flowers out of the bathtub, and looking at the cards, she gave me such a funny little grin and said, 'I'll thank the gentleman for these myself, Rose!' Ted and I roared at her." "But that was dear," said Ann, romantically.