Jeanne, her arms full of children, turned slowly to face the Fairchilds. Tears were sparkling on her eyelashes, but her eyes were big and bright.
"You have also a little gift from your grandfather," said Mr. Fairchild, showing Jeanne a folded paper and then returning it to his pocket for safe-keeping. "I'll read this to you sometime when you're not so busy. I just wanted you to know that your grandfather has left you enough money to buy _two_ Cinder Ponds, build a small orphan asylum, and feed and educate at least half a dozen small children."
"_Oh_!" said Jeanne, using the only word she seemed to have left.
"Santa Claus seems to be making up for lost time," said Roger, who had caught his mother wiping away happy tears and had feared for one dreadful moment that he himself was going to shed a couple. "He never gave _me_ three children and a fortune all at one whack. And what I heard upstairs wasn't even a goat."
"Never mind," said Jeanne, with her little twisty smile, "I'll _buy_ you one."
Then she went swiftly to Mrs. Fairchild, put her arms about that little lady's waist, and laid her cheek against hers.
"_You_ are my nicest Christmas present," she said. "I just love you."
Did you ever read the words "The End" and then turn over the pages at the back of the book to see if there wasn't just the least scrap more hidden _somewhere_? This time there is.
Everybody knows that you are quite clever enough to guess everything that happened afterwards to Jeanne and her family; but Old Captain wants you to know for certain that Annie was perfectly sweet and lovely in her new clothes, that Sammy was so bright and attractive in his that the first-grade teacher just loved him and gave him a splendid start along the road to knowledge; and that Patsy proved so good and so charming in every way that Mrs. Fairchild fairly adored him.
End of Project Gutenberg's The Cinder Pond, by Carroll Watson Rankin