A huge platter of roast turkey on one end of the table, and one of roast goose on the other, proved very tempting; and a chicken pie with its fluted crust was not to be ignored.
When these were removed, Sandy filled their places with huge fancy baskets of fruit; and still the candles burned and flickered, and the hum of merry voices filled the old house with gladness. At a late hour the happy party left, the neighbors, one and all, wishing the dear old couple every blessing, and promising to be as neighborly as their busy lives would permit.
To Randy, Helen said: “I shall not run away this time without saying good-by. I will come to-morrow and spend a little time with you, and then you may go with me to the village, where I must take the train for home.”
Bright and early on the following day, Randy was up, singing as she moved about the kitchen, as usual, trying to help.
“She’s coming to-day, she’s coming to-day,” sang Prue, as she skipped about the room, and Randy’s heart joined gladly in the song.
At that very moment Helen was coming up the walk, and as she tapped lightly at the door, Prue ran to let her in.
How bright she looked in her cloth gown and trim jacket, her feather collar and bewitching hat. She took off her wraps, as Mrs. Weston suggested, and sat down to chat with Randy.
“What is the news?” said Helen. “What has happened during my absence, Randy?”
“Very little has happened,” said Randy, “only a few things. School is to open next week; that’s a week earlier than last year, and Mr. Lawton says he’ll keep his best room warm enough for us if it takes his whole woodpile.”
“And I’m going to school,” said Prue, and she looked at Helen as if she expected to see that young lady stunned by such an announcement.