It was so unlike her usual remarks that the Babson girls looked at each other; but Randy slipped her arm around Phœbe as they stood by the window, and Phœbe felt rewarded.
They talked earnestly over the event of Wednesday evening, and all were enthusiastically expectant.
As the afternoon waned, the girls took leave of Randy, looking back as they went down the road to call to her, “We’ll see you Wednesday night.”
Wednesday proved to be a lovely day, and the evening sky was bright with stars, the air cold and crisp when the merry party drove up to Sandy’s door. As no one wished to be the first to arrive, a large party met at Mrs. Weston’s house and together they drove to the McLeod farm.
The large house was ablaze with lights, and as the teams stopped, the door was opened wide and a cheery voice shouted, “It’s glad we are to see ye, friends, come in, come in,” and Sandy led the way proudly to a silver-haired little woman, who stood waiting to greet her husband’s friends and neighbors.
Such a sweet-faced little woman, who had a gentle, gracious word for every new friend, and a kiss for each one of the children.
When Sandy brought Prue to her, saying, “This is the little lass, Margaret, wha said ‘write the letter,’” she took the child upon her lap and put her arms about her, saying, “Bless the bairn, will ye come sometimes to see me? it wad gae me much pleasure.”
“Oh, yes, I will come,” answered Prue, “if I may bring Randy. She’s my big sister, and there’s no one like her anywhere.”
Prue was assured that Randy would be more than welcome. Every one was charmed with the gentle little Scotch woman, who seemed equally pleased with her new friends.
They sometimes found it a bit difficult to understand her. Sandy had been so long in America, and had tried so earnestly to be like his neighbors, that he expressed himself in very good English, with here and there a bit of his old dialect appearing. His wife, however, had lived in a little town some miles distant from the city, and used many words which, while in common use in the Scottish village, were utterly unknown to her new friends. But her manner could not be misunderstood. It was unmistakably the manner of a gentle, lovely character, bearing good-will to all.