“Well, I sort o’ wish she’d come, too,” Ken declared, blinking very hard.
There was a sudden warm glow in the heart of the little listener. After all, she would be welcome. Even Ken wanted her! With a glad cry she ran in the open door and threw her arms about her sister. Then she pounced upon Ken and kissed him.
“I’m home,” she cried, “and please, please let me stay forever and ever.”
Baby Jim was clamoring for attention, and he was caught in a crushing hug while he waved his spoon and uttered joyous little squeals, although he did not understand Carol’s home-coming any more than he had her departure only the day before.
After a time, in which tears and laughter blended, Carol cried, “Dixie, I’m ’most starved with that long walk and not eating much breakfast. I’m so glad you’ve got fried potatoes and baked beans.”
“I’m hungry, too, now that I take notice of it,” the older girl said, her freckled face beaming.
“Well, I thought I’d had enough, but I guess I could take another helping,” Ken declared. And so they all sat down, and a merry meal it was.
Oh, how much nicer her own home was, Carol thought, where even Baby Jim could talk if he wished and not be told that only grown-ups should converse at table. Carol didn’t tell all that had happened. In fact, she didn’t seem to wish to speak of her recent experience. She inquired with interest about the well-being of the pig and the three hens as though she had been away a year.
Then she asked what had happened at school that day. None of them had attended. They hadn’t had the heart to do anything, but on the morrow all of them would go.
After the dishes were done, Carol climbed to the loft. For some reason that she could not explain to herself, she wanted to see her old doll. She hadn’t played with it for a year, not since Jessica Archer had made fun of her and called her a baby for playing with a doll.