It was early morning, but it was winter time. The ground was covered with snow beginning to sparkle in the red light of the rising sun. The dear old sun! How glad Con was to see his round face again. The world looked just the same as when he had left it, but suddenly a dreadful fear seized Con. How would he find all at home? How long had he been away? Could it be a hundred years, or fifty, or even only seven, what a terrible change he would find. He thought of “little Bridget” in the ballad, and shivered. He was almost afraid to open the garden door and run in. But everything looked the same; and, yes—there to his delight was old Evan the gardener already at work, apparently no older than when last he had seen him—it must be all right, Evan was so old, that to see him there at all told that no great time could have passed.
“You’ve come home early this morning, Master Con,” he said. “Master and Missis came back last night in all that storm, but they weren’t frightened about you, as they had the message that you had stayed at school.”
“What do you mean, Evan—what message? Who said I had stayed at school?” “Last night—could it have been only last night,” he whispered to himself.
“A little boy brought the message, the queerest little chap you ever saw—not as big as you by half hardly, but speaking quite like a man. I met him myself on my way home, and turned back again to tell. What a rough night it was to be sure!”
Feeling as if he were dreaming, Con turned to the house. There on the doorstep stood his mother, looking not a little astonished at seeing him.
“Why, Con, dear,” she exclaimed, “you have come over early this morning. Did you get home-sick in one night?”
But Con had flung his arms round her neck, and was kissing her dreadfully. “O mother, mother! I am so glad to see you again,” he cried.
“You queer boy. Why, I declare he has tears in his eyes!” his mother exclaimed. “Why, Con, dear, you seem as if you had been away a year instead of a night.”
“I will tell you all about it, mother. But, oh! please, why did you tie up my sleeves with green ribbon before I was christened?”
His mother stared. “Now who could have told you that, child?” she said. “It was silly of me, but I only did it to tease old nurse, who was full of fancies. Besides the days of fairy stealings are over, Con, though I have often thought nurse would have been alarmed if she had known how full of fairy fancies you were, my boy.”