“Of course, dear, so you shall,” said Helen, “and now I must be going, but I’ll tell you all about the picnic the next time we meet. Do you know where Mrs. Gray lives, Randy?”
Randy laughed. “Of course I do,” said she.
“Well, when father brings home your new shade hat, and of course he will, if you wish it so much, suppose you take a walk over to Mrs. Gray’s and make a little call upon me, and when you come bring the new hat with you; I shouldn’t wonder if I had something with which to trim it.”
“Oh, I will, I will!” said Randy, eagerly, “and then you’ll tell me all about the picnic.”
With sheer excitement little Prue was executing a funny little jig, which reminded Helen to inquire for the injured foot.
“It’s all well. See!” and Prue hopped upon that one foot to assure her that it was quite itself again.
“I should call that foot very well indeed,” said Helen. Then together they walked out to the kitchen where, bidding good morning to Mrs. Weston, Helen said that she had enjoyed her call, admired Randy’s tasteful decoration, and asked if she might borrow Randy once in a while.
“Why, yes, you may have Randy whenever I can spare her,” said Mrs. Weston, “’though she seems so took up with you, and so delighted, that when she comes home from a call on you I’m afraid she’ll about tread on air.”
Helen laughed, and taking Randy’s hand they walked together as far as the road where Randy, perched upon the wall, watched her new friend out of sight.
Helen turned many times to wave her hand until a bend in the road hid her from view. Then Randy walked slowly to the house, followed by Prue, and as they walked they talked of nothing but Helen’s beauty and sweetness and the wonderful picnic.