“So do I,” said little Prue. “I told her to-day when her needle plagued her, I told her I’d fred all her needles when she was sewing, and you’d never guess what she said, Randy. She said I was a good little girl,—she did, truly.”
The patter of raindrops on the roof soon lulled the children to sleep, and in their dreams Aunt Prudence figured as the Goddess of Plenty, distributing gifts with lavish hands.
CHAPTER XII—A WEDDING FEAST
Sunday morning Randy and Prue were early at church, and as they leaned back against the pew, in expectation of one of Parson Spooner’s long sermons, Randy put her hand in her pocket and lovingly caressed a square envelope which she had placed there before starting for church.
“Got any candy in your pocket, Randy?” eagerly questioned Prue, as she leaned toward her sister. Randy shook her head.
“Didn’t Jotham give you some when he speaked to you at the door?” she asked in such a loud whisper that Randy ejaculated “sh-sh,” and again shook her head.
“Then what’s in your pocket?” persisted Prue.
Randy drew Helen’s precious letter from her pocket, showing just enough of the envelope to satisfy Prue’s curiosity. Then the little girl took a hymn book from the rack, and with her wee forefinger commenced to point out, and at the same time name those letters which she knew. She found every O upon the page, then every S, and Randy thought best to let her thus amuse herself as, at least, she was quiet—a most unusual thing.
Helen had mailed the letter at once upon reaching Boston, and Mr. Weston had brought it from the village on the following day and placed it in Randy’s hand as she sat listening to Mrs. Gray, who had called to deliver Helen’s message.
“A letter for me, father?” questioned Randy in surprise. “Why, who’s it from?”