The Mystery of the Uninvited Ghost

jeans and a denim jacket. Trixie thought he looked nice and told him so. He grinned and went in search of Hallie.
    When the table was cleared for dessert, Hans excused himself. From the Belden refrigerator, he brought a corsage of tiny white rosebuds. When he sat at the table again, he gave the flowers to Honey and said, “Pass it on.”
    As each person looked at the corsage, Trixie heard whispers: “Oh, my!”
    “Lovely.”
    “Perfect!”
    Unable to control her curiosity another minute, Trixie asked, “What’s so special about roses?” When it was her turn to receive the flowers, she saw what was so special. Fastened with a wisp of white ribbon, Juliana’s engagement ring circled one tiny rosebud.
    “Oh-h,” Trixie breathed. From the land where diamond cutting was a fine art had come this old, old ring—a cluster of perfect diamonds set in the center of a delicate golden tulip. When the corsage reached
    Juliana, Hans took it from her hand. He untied the ribbon and placed the ring on Juliana’s finger.
    “That ring’s too big,” Bobby piped.
    Hans smiled. “We’ll have it altered to fit, Bobby.” Wisely Bobby advised, “You can put it in hot water and shrink it. That’s what Trixie did to my sweater.”
    “That’s our Trixie!” Mart hooted.
    Dan explained, “You don’t shrink gold, Bobby. You melt it.”
    “Trixie’s hot water could prob’ly do that, too,” Bobby asserted.
    Dan sat directly opposite Juliana. He reached across the table and lifted her hand, tilting the ring till the diamonds shimmered. His black eyes were unreadable when he told her, “Take very good care of this ring, Juliana.” Finding himself the center of attention, he laughed nervously. “Hey! I never touched a real engagement ring before. It’s kind of special, don’t you agree?”
    “I agree,” Juliana said softly. “It’s very special.” Remembering the lost, injured, and lonely girl who had come from the hospital to Crabapple Farm, Trixie’s eyes dampened. How sad it would have been if she had never remembered who she was. How sad for Hans Vorwald across the sea in Amsterdam, and how sad for nameless “Janie.” Yet here were the two of them, gloriously happy because the Bob-Whites had solved the mystery that turned “Janie” into Juliana again.
    It mattered that Trixie and Honey made use of the talent they had to help people with their problems. But for them, Jim Frayne might still be a hungry runaway. Yet here he sat, Honey’s brother by adoption, with a fortune in trust for wise use when he was grown. And Dan might have landed in prison. Instead, he had found work and friends. Di had been letting her family’s changing fortunes make her miserable and lonely. Now she was a well-loved friend, though troubled temporarily. At one time or another, each member of the Bob-Whites had faced loneliness or danger, yet here they all were, sharing this happy moment with Hans and Juliana.
    Trixie had been thinking, It matters... and suddenly this became, I matter. Then she knew why she had flared at Hallie earlier that day. She had felt pushed aside.
    Across the table, seated next to Dan, Honey sat with her face softly framed by long honey-blond hair. She looked up and smiled. Trixie wanted to tell Honey how lucky she felt to have her for a friend and how important it was to pursue a life’s dream, but all she could do at the moment was to smile back.
    With the Bob-Whites helping, dishes and utensils were soon cleaned and stored away. One would never have guessed that a few of the workers were used to maid service.
    With the day’s work done, the Beldens and their friends gathered on the wide porch to relax in the cool downdraft from the glen. At first they all chattered about the weather, the raspberries, and the Lynch robbery. Gradually voices became silent, and Peter Belden picked up the ukulele he had kept from his own young years. While he accompanied the others, they sang the old sweet songs that fitted the mood of the evening.
    Once Hans said, “I thought American music was different. More—” He chopped the air with one hand.
    “Like this?” Mart clapped his hands and stamped his feet in a rock beat. His father chuckled, matching the rhythm on the ukulele while everybody clapped. With a whoop, Mart pulled Hallie to her feet. Silhouetted against the setting sun, they performed a stamping, twisting dance on the grass. Dan cut in, and Mart collapsed on the steps.
    “That was very nice, Mart!”