“Yes, but I’ll call him Robin for short.”

The boys went into the stable to find something for the hen-coop, and the girls went to the house. They found a pleasant-looking, rosy-cheeked maid installed in the kitchen, and passing through they went on up to Cassy’s morning-glory room. But by the time the boys had settled the hen in her new home it was growing late and the visitors took their leave with many friendly good-byes and neighborly invitations. Cassy watched them depart and then went to her mother.

Out of doors Jerry and his uncle were looking over the land on which would soon appear the rows of greenhouses. A shining line of silver showed through the trees, telling where the river was. Behind the purple hills the sun had set, and there was a gorgeous western sky. With her head on her mother’s shoulder Cassy watched the clouds of amethyst and gold and red.

“The sun has walked through his garden,” she said. “See all the bunches of flowers in the sky. Aren’t you so happy it most hurts you, mother?”

“I am very thankful and content,” she said.

“Monday morning Eleanor is going to call for me to take me to school; she is coming with her pony carriage. Isn’t it good of Uncle John to want me to go to that school? I must go and tell him. Kiss me, mother, I am going to find Uncle John.”

Her mother kissed her and presently saw her stepping carefully over the clods of earth, her face aglow with the rosy light from the sky. She was singing in a shrill little voice: “Home sweet home.” Jerry had forsaken his uncle and had gone to his beloved puppy, but Uncle John heard Cassy and held out his hand. She went to him and together they watched the daylight fade.

“But there’s such a beautiful to-morrow coming,” said Cassy, as they walked towards the cottage in the waning light.

Transcriber’s Notes