"Randy, _please_, your mother is waiting. She didn't come down to the
station because she said that if she wept on your shoulder, she would
not do it before the whole world. But she is _waiting_---- And it isn't
fair for me to hold you back a minute."

He yielded at last reluctantly. "Remember, you are to act as if you had
never met me," she said to Major Prime as she gave him her hand at
parting, "when you see me to-night."

"Becky," Randy asked, in a sudden panic, "are the boarders to be drawn
up in ranks to welcome me?"

"No, your mother has given you and Major Prime each two rooms in the
Schoolhouse, and we are to dine out there, in your sitting-room--our
families and the Major. And there won't be a soul to see you until
morning, and then you can show yourself off by inches."

"Until to-night then," said Randy, and opened the gate for her.

"Until to-night," she watched them and waved her hand as they drove off.

"A beautiful child," the Major remarked from the shadow of the back
seat.

"She's more than beautiful," said Randy, glowing, "oh, you wait till you
really know her, Major."

V

The Schoolhouse at King's Crest had been built years before by one of
the Paines for two sons and their tutor. It was separated from the old
brick mansion by a wide expanse of unmowed lawn, thick now in midsummer
with fluttering poppies. There was a flagged stone walk, and an orchard
at the left, beyond the orchard were rolling fields, and in the distance
one caught a glimpse of the shining river.

On the lower floor of the Schoolhouse were two ample sitting-rooms with
bedrooms above, one of which was reached by outside stairs, and the
other by an enclosed stairway. Baths had been added when Mrs. Paine had
come as a widow to King's Crest with her small son, and had chosen the
Schoolhouse as a quiet haven. Later, on the death of his grandparents,
Randy had inherited the estate, and he and his mother had moved into the
mansion. But he had kept his rooms in the Schoolhouse, and was glad to
know that he could go back to them.

Major Prime had the west sitting-room. It was lined with low bookcases,
full of old, old books. There was a fireplace, a winged chair, a broad
couch, a big desk of dark seasoned mahogany, and over the mantel a steel
engraving of Robert E. Lee. The low windows at the back looked out upon
the wooded green of the ascending hill; at the front was a porch which
gave a view of the valley.

Randolph's ar