HOME
At last the long anticipated hour had arrived and Randy and Jotham were speeding over the country toward home.
Nina Irwin, Peggy Atherton, Polly Lawrence and a host of their schoolmates had, on the day before bidden Randy an affectionate good-bye. They had exchanged promises in regard to correspondence, had vowed never to forget each other, and Nina had slipped a little parcel into Randy's hand, saying,
"Just a little gift, dear Randy. Open it when the train has started and you are on your way home."
"O Nina, I shall prize your gift, whatever it may be," said Randy. "How can I wait until to-morrow to see it? And I have something to tell you," she continued.
"I had a letter from home yesterday, and mother says that I must be sure to give you her invitation to spend a few weeks of the summer with us. She tells me to remind you that our home is a farm-house, but that it is large and comfortable, and that the welcome awaiting you is very cordial.
"Father says, 'Tell Miss Nina that I am anxious to see my daughter's dear friend of whom she writes such pleasant things.' Even Aunt Prudence says, 'I think I shall approve of Miss Irwin,' and little Prue says, 'Tell the Nina girl I want her to come!'"
"There was never a sweeter invitation, Randy Weston. Of course I'll come," said Nina, "I wouldn't miss it for the world. Just a farm-house! Why, Randy, that is half the charm. Haven't I been to hotels summer after summer, but I never stayed over night in a farm-house. I shall enjoy every hour of my stay with you.
"Tell your mother how gladly I accept her invitation, and tell Prue that the 'Nina girl' has no little sister, and that she is very eager to see Randy's little Prue."
On the morning of the journey Aunt Marcia folded Randy in a warm embrace as she said,
"Dear child promise me that you will come again, thus only, can I see you depart;" and Randy had promised at some future time to again visit Boston.
With Helen she had entered the coupé and together they rode to the station.
Jotham had been obliged to relinquish the pleasure of calling for Randy and had written to say that, accompanied by his tutor, he would meet her at the depot, so it happened that Jotham and Randy, after saying good-bye to their two friends, rode out from the station and into the glad sunshine on their homeward way, and Helen, her beautiful eyes filled with tears, entered the carriage followed by Professor Marden who seated himself beside her.
"Come and lunch with Aunt Marcia and me" she had said, "then I shall feel that while one dear friend departs, another remains."
Upon entering the car, Jotham had turned over the seat opposite the one which they had chosen, and upon it they laid wraps, bags, a box of candy, and Helen's last gift to Randy, a great cluster of roses.
Randy had enjoyed her sojourn in the city with all the enthusiasm of her nature, but now her face was turned toward home, and with a smiling face she said to Jotham,
"I have you for company, and the day is sunny, I have my gifts, too, and best of all, I shall soon see every one at home. O, Jotham, are you as glad as I am, to-day?"
There was a suspicious tremor in his voice as he replied,
"I am every bit as happy as you are, Randy; I have worked very hard this winter and been cheered by Professor Marden's genuine interest in me. He has been kindness itself, and the letters from home have been a great comfort. I am already looking forward to next season's study, and in the meantime I shall enjoy the summer vacation. I'll show father that while he is kind enough to allow me to spend my winter in study, I have not forgotten how to help in the summer work upon the farm."
"Look, Randy," continued Jotham, "the little towns and villages look more like home as we ride away from the city."
Randy looked from the window and noticed that the houses were farther and farther apart, the broad fields in which cows were grazing, the winding rivers dazzling in the sunlight, the hills blue and hazy and over all the blue sky and fleecy clouds.
When Randy opened the little parcel containing Nina's gift, she was delighted to find a photograph, encased in a silver frame of exquisite workmanship. Nina's card was fastened to the frame with a bit of ribbon, and upon the card appeared this message: "You now see that I can be with you always."
"Nina knew that I would rather have her picture than any other thing," said Randy.
How swiftly the hours flew! At noon the car was very warm, for it was late in May, and it seemed almost like June sunshine which lay in long bars upon the red plush seats.
Later, the air became cooler, and Randy had tired of the flying landscape until aroused by Jotham, who exclaimed,
"Look out, Randy! This is the next town to ours."
"Do you mean that we are so near home?" asked Randy, with sparkling eyes. Just at this point the brakeman's voice announced the station, and proved that Jotham had spoken truly.
How beautiful were the orchards, with their blossom-laden trees! "Ah home is home after all," thought Randy.
As she stepped from the car a shrill little voice cried,
"O Randy, my Randy! I thought you'd never come, but you did."
Randy held her little sister closely, and laid her cheek against the soft curls. Then she turned to her father and saw a wealth of love in his eyes as he said,
"Now the home will be complete. It has been 'bout half empty with ye away, Randy. I'm glad ye're home again. I ain't able to say how glad, an' Jotham, my boy, I'm glad to see ye, too. Ah, here's yer father. I haven't a right ter a minute more er yer time."
With eager questioning Randy asked, "And mother and Aunt Prudence?"
"Oh they're feelin' pretty spry now the day's come fer ye to arrive. They're full er preparations fer yer home-comin', an'—"
"An' the big cake has got pink frostin' on top of it, an' my dolly has got on her best dress 'cause she knew you was comin', an' I've kept askin' Aunt Prudence all day what time it was, an' how long it would be 'fore you'd be here, an' Tabby's got a ribbon on her neck, an' the house an' barn has been painted, an' the cars an' engine ride behind our barn now, an' I guess that's all," said Prue, with a sigh, as if regretting that there was so little news.
"Why that is a great deal of news," said Randy, "how did you remember it all?"
"Oh, I've been savin' it up, purpose to tell you when you comed," said Prue.
As they drove along the shady road toward home, they passed Jabez Brimblecom who thus accosted Randy:—
"Wal, wal I'm glad ter see yer home agin, Randy, or must I say Miss Weston, since ye've been to Boston?"
"Oh please call me Randy, or I shall think you are a stranger, instead of an old friend."
"Wal, Randy it is then, an' glad I be ter hear it. My wife said when ye went off that she knew ye, an' that Randy'd be Randy anywhere 'n she's 'baout right 's usual."
Every one whom they met had a word of greeting for Randy, until she exclaimed,
"Oh, it is almost worth while to go away, if everyone is to be so glad of my return."
"And we're the gladdest of all," said Prue.
"Indeed we are," said Mr. Weston, "an' now, Randy, do ye see two women at the corner of the wall? I tell ye, they couldn't wait 'til ye arrived at the door."
Mr. Weston stopped Snowfoot, and Randy jumped from the wagon, and running to her mother, threw her arms about her neck.
"O Randy, child, this is the first day of real happiness since ye started fer Boston. Not but what we've gotten on pretty well, but ye left a space, so ter speak, a space that nothin' could fill. Well, ye're here now, an' we'll find it easy to be cheerful."
"And you're glad to see me, too, Aunt Prudence?" asked Randy, wondering if so dignified a person would like a kiss.
"Glad!" was the answer, "that's no name fer it," and she fervently kissed Randy's cheek. "I must say, ef ye'd stayed away a week longer yer ma an' me would been 'bout ready ter give up housekeepin'. I tell ye, Randy, we shall all feel nigh on ter giddy, now ye've arrived."
The remarkable sight of Aunt Prudence kissing Randy made a great impression upon Prue.
"If I goed to Boston, Aunt Prudence, would you kiss me when I comed back?" she asked.
"Why bless ye, Prue, I'll kiss ye now, 'thout yer havin' ter go away," and she did, much to Prue's delight.
Arrived at the house, Prue exhibited her doll dressed in all her finery, Tabby decorated with a gay ribbon, and was about to drag Randy out to the barn that she might see the new railroad which ran through the pasture lot, when Mrs. Weston suggested that the railroad would be there in the morning and that as Randy had been riding all day it would be far better to wait until the next day to see it.
So little Prue sat beside Randy and listened to all which she had to tell with the greatest interest.
"Oh, I wish Johnny Buffum was here to hear all 'bout Boston," sighed Prue, "then he'd know what a big girl my Randy is," and the little girl wondered why they laughed.
At tea she led Randy to the table and exclaimed,
"There, didn't I say the cake had pink frosting onto it?" and Randy agreed that it was indeed pink and that it looked very tempting.
Mrs. Weston and Aunt Prudence had arranged a fine little spread, composed of Randy's favorite dishes and as she looked at the dear faces around the table, she knew that she could not be happier at the grandest feast, though it were given in her honor in palatial halls.
"Randy is here, Randy is here!" It seemed as if each person as soon as he learned the news, repeated it to his neighbor, and that neighbor repeated it to the next person whom he chanced to meet on the road, and soon the entire village knew that Randy was once more at home.
Prue followed her about as if she feared to lose sight of her, and promised to recite an endless number of lessons to Randy if only she might be permitted to stay out of school.
"I can't go to school and not see my Randy all day. I don't want to be anywhere where my Randy isn't." Prue pleaded so earnestly that at last Mr. Weston said,
"It is so near the end er the term, why not let her stay at home, mother?"
Even Aunt Prudence interceded for her, and Prue's joy was unbounded when she was told that she might consider that her vacation had commenced.
Randy and Prue sat under the shadow of the blossoming branches
The day after Randy's return was bright and sunny, and with little Prue she wandered beneath the sweet scented apple blossoms drinking in their beauty, and wondering if in all the world there was a fairer place than the orchard with its wealth of bloom, when suddenly Prue exclaimed,
"You're 'most as glad to see me as anybody, Randy?
"Me 'n Tabby is just 'special glad you've got home." The little eyes looked anxiously up into Randy's face.
"You precious little sister," Randy answered, "I've been longing all winter to see you, and when I have sat before the fire with Miss Dayton on a stormy afternoon I have wished that Tabby with her paws tucked in, sat blinking at the flames. There is no one, Prue, whom I am more truly glad to see than you."
While Randy and Prue were in the orchard, Mrs. Hodgkins "ran in fer a chat," as she expressed it.
"Wal, I hear tell that Randy's come back. What's she goin' ter do next year, er don't she know yet? Did ye know't I had comp'ny?" She continued, asking a second question without awaiting an answer to the first.
"Wal, I have got comp'ny, and comp'ny she means ter be considered.
"It's Mis' C. Barnard Boardman, as she calls herself; she's Sabriny Brimblecom that was, an' a pretty time I'm havin' with her. She's delicate, or she thinks she is, an' I'm 'baout wild with her notions 'baout food, and her talkin' of 'zileratin' air, whatever that may be.
"She can't lift her finger ter help me, an' the ruffles an' furbelows I have ter iron fer her makes me bile, while she sets aout in the door-yard a rockin' back'ards an' for'ards as cool as a cucumber. She ain't goin' ter stay but a week longer with us, an' then she goes ter stay with her brother Jabez, an' land knows, I pity Mis' Brimblecom, fer Sabriny says she's goin' ter stay the whole summer. She's what ye might call savin', fer she's savin' her board, an' when she left the Brimblecom's the last time she spent the summer with 'em, she put a little package in Mis' Brimblecom's hand just as she went aout the door, 'Jest a little gift in return for your kindness,' said Sabriny, in her lofty way.
"After she was gone Mis' Brimblecom opened the parcel an' she an' Jabez just looked at each other, an' didn't speak. Sabriny's gift was a wire tea strainer! Barnes sells 'em fer ten cents daown ter the store."
"I should try, in some way, that she'd understand, ter make her realize that her room was better'n her company," said Aunt Prudence.
"You think you would," said Mrs. Weston, "but you've a kind heart, an' while you'd feel like tellin' her ter go, you wouldn't do it."
"Mis' Brimblecom's one er the best women that ever lived, an' it's provokin' fer her ter be pestered with Sabriny," declared Mrs. Hodgkins.
"Wal, I must be goin'," and away she went, stopping on the way to greet Randy who stood by the wall upon which sat Prue and Tabby.
Long after Mrs. Hodgkins had left them, Randy and Prue sat under the shadow of the blossoming branches, and it seemed to Randy that little Prue had grown more lovely in face and figure. Her curls were longer, and her sweet eyes darker, her hair had kept its sunny hue, and her coloring was wonderfully like that of the apple blossoms.
Prue was quite unaware of Randy's loving scrutiny, and she caressed Tabby, humming contentedly, and looking about at the sunlight, the blossoms and the butterflies. Suddenly she pointed down the road exclaiming,
"Look, Randy, look! See old Mr. Simpkins coming this way."
As he espied Randy he hastened toward her.
"Glad ter see ye, glad ter see ye, Randy. Ye're lookin' fine. Haow be ye, an' haow's Boston?"
Randy assured him that the city seemed to be intact when she left it, but he did not hear.
"I expect ye haven't heared that Timotheus is a lit'rary feller naow, doin' farm work only 'casionally, so ter speak.
"Oh, ye did hear?" he questioned as Randy nodded assent.
"Wal, he's a feelin' pooty big over his two dollars, but he's kind er riled with the editor man fer thinkin' his writin' that he writ was funny. Timotheus has fixed the attic fer a room ter stay in when he's a writin', an' there he stays, day in, 'n day aout, a workin' away at his literatoor. It's odd haow boys in one family will hev different idees. Naow Joel likes store work best. Wal, here's some er the boys and girls a comin' ter see ye, so I'll be goin' along."
A laughing troop came hurrying along the road, and they hailed Randy with shouts of delight when they espied her sitting upon the wall with Prue. As they crowded about her, plying her with questions, Randy tried to answer them all promptly, but gave it up with a laugh, exclaiming,
"Oh, I'm glad to be with you all, and am pleased that you came over this morning to see me. Sit down upon the wall and tell me all the news, and I will try to answer all your questions."
They seated themselves, a merry, laughing row, upon the wall; the Babson girls, Dot and Jack Marvin, Jotham, the Langham twins, Reuben Jenks, Mollie Wilson, Phoebe Small and even Sandy McLeod's little Janie, and gaily they chattered, the petals of the apple-blossoms falling about them, a perfumed shower.
Randy's home coming had indeed been a glad one, and in "Randy and Prue" one may learn more of Randy's sunny nature, and of the little sister's winsome ways.