And Miss Mary Taylor and Mr. Hamilton Dyce,
and some other young ladies and gentlemen whom they drilled into the
service, shut themselves up in the library and wrote as fast as ever they
could make their pens fly over the paper, till little white piles appeared
on the table. And Percy and Joel and Van and the other boys would rush in
for these same piles to put them in the post office, to earn more money, to
go into the big box. So back and forth ran these letter carriers, until
even Miss Mary threw down her pen.
"I can't write another word," she cried. "I've exhausted everything I can
think of. I don't want to see another letter!"
And then a card was put up outside the Wistaria arbor, "Post Office
Closed." And everybody who still had money, was anxious to spend it before
going home; so it was just lavished on the flower-bowers, the fancy-work
table, and the candy shop.
And then, when there wasn't anything more to be bought or sold, the bands
moved down nearer to the center of the big lawn, making the gay little
groups all move back, leaving a broad, smooth surface, for the affair was
to end in dancing on the green.
Meanwhile Grandpapa was gallantly offering his arm to Madam Dyce, and
leading her up to an esplanade on the upper terrace, and, word being spread
about that all the guests were expected to follow, there they found seats
and little tables and a bevy of waiters to serve a delicious supper.
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