ay mellow and yellow behind the orchard, with a clear,
transparent greenish-blue above and a hint of rosy light in the long
rays that reached their fingers along the ground between the
apple-trees. In a few minutes the evening train would be in, and there
would be rose in the sunset. She knew the signs, and the sky would be
glorious to-night. They would see it as they came from the train. In
fifteen minutes it would be time for her to put on her hat and go down
to meet them! How her heart throbbed with anticipation!

Forebodings came to shadow her brightness. Suppose they should not
come! Suppose they were delayed, or had changed their minds and should
send another telegram saying so! She drew a deep breath, and tried to
brace herself for the shock of the thought. She looked fearfully down
the road for a possible Johnny Knox speeding along with another
telegram, and was relieved to see only Ambrose Perkins ambling home
for supper followed by his tall, smiling Airedale.

There was a shadow, too, that stood behind her, though she ignored it
utterly; it was the thought of the afterwards, when the two bright
young things had been and gone, and she would have to face the gray in
her life again without the rose. But that would be afterwards, and
this was now! Ten minutes more, and she would go to the station!

At that minute a great blue automobile shot up to the front gate, and
stopped. A big lump flew into Julia Cloud's throat, and her hand went
to her heart. Had it then come, that telegram, saying they had changed
their minds? She stood trembling by the window, unable to move.

But out from the front seat and the back as if ejected from a catapult
shot two figures, and flew together up the front walk, a tall boy and
a little girl, just as the sun dropped low and swung a deep red light
into the sky, flooding the front yard with glory, and staining the
heavens far up into the blue.

They had come! They had come before it was yet train-time!

Julia Cloud got herself to her front door in a tremor of delight, and
instantly four strong young arms encircled her, and nearly smothered
the life out of her.

"O you dear Cloudy Jewel! You look just the same. I knew you would.
Only your hair is white and pretty," Leslie gurgled.

"Sure, she is just the same! What did I tell you?" cried Allison,
lifting them both and carrying them inside.

"Now, who on earth can that be?" said Mrs. Ambrose Perkins, flying to
her parlor window