“So do I,” said little Prue; “but now let’s go to bed.”
Randy laughed, and saying, “You’ve done bravely, Prue, to keep your eyes open to-night,” led her little sister up the stairs to their tiny chamber, where soon they were fast asleep.
The Babson girls talked until after midnight over the evening’s entertainment, declaring it to be the “very greatest bee they ever went to.”
Phœbe Small, having no sister to talk it over with, kept the candle burning until late that night, while she wrote in her diary a lengthy description of the event. Phœbe had heard her mother tell of keeping a diary when she was young, so, of course, Phœbe, who ardently admired her mother, immediately commenced to keep one.
Old Sandy McLeod, as he gallantly helped Helen Dayton to alight at Mrs. Gray’s door, thanked her over and over again for the pleasure she had given him in allowing him to be her escort, telling her that he was glad enough that she had urged him to play the pipes, since the music had given such pleasure; adding, “Old Nathan and old Sandy hae’ na been the best of friends and neighbors, but to-night we hae shaken hands an’ we’re to be friends forever.”
“Oh, I’m so glad,” said Helen.
“And ane thing mair, lass,” he interrupted, “about that letter the little lass was talking of, I’ll write it to-night!”
“It is late, now,” said Helen.
“None too late to write. I’ll do it to-night and sen’ it to-morrow, as sure as I’m Sandy McLeod.”
True to his word, Sandy sat at his table until late into the night, writing a long, long letter. The candle flickered as his hand moved back and forth across the pages.