“This is the place,” said the boy, and went his way whistling.  Elnora was three blocks from the high school building on the same street.  She was before a quaint old house, fresh with paint and covered with vines.  There was a long wide lot, grass-covered, closely set with trees, and a barn and chicken park at the back that seemed to be occupied.  Elnora stepped on the veranda which was furnished with straw rugs, bent-hickory chairs, hanging baskets, and a table with a work-box and magazines, and knocked at the screen door.

Inside she could see polished floors, walls freshly papered in low-toned harmonious colours, straw rugs and madras curtains.  It seemed to be a restful, homelike place to which she had come.  A second later down an open stairway came a tall, dark-eyed woman with cheeks faintly pink and a crown of fluffy snow-white hair.  She wore a lavender gingham dress with white collar and cuffs, and she called as she advanced:  “That screen isn’t latched!  Open it and come see your brand-new mother, my girl.”

Elnora stepped inside the door.  “Mother!” she cried.  “You my mother!  I don’t believe it!”

“Well, you better!” said Mrs. Comstock, “because it’s true!  You said you wished I were like the other girls’ mothers, and I’ve shot as close the mark as I could without any practice.  I thought that walk would be too much for you this winter, so I just rented this house and moved in, to be near you, and help more in case I’m needed.  I’ve only lived here a day, but I like it so well I’ve a mortal big notion to buy the place.”

“But mother!” protested Elnora, clinging to her wonderingly.  “You are perfectly beautiful, and this house is a little paradise, but how will we ever pay for it?  We can’t afford it!”

“Humph!  Have you forgotten I telegraphed you I’d found some money I didn’t know about?  All I’ve done is paid for, and plenty more to settle for all I propose to do.”

Mrs. Comstock glanced around with satisfaction.

“I may get homesick as a pup before spring,” she said, “but if I do I can go back.  If I don’t, I’ll sell some timber and put a few oil wells where they don’t show much.  I can have land enough cleared for a few fields and put a tenant on our farm, and we will buy this and settle here.  It’s for sale.”

“You don’t look it, but you’ve surely gone mad!”

“Just the reverse, my girl,” said Mrs. Comstock, “I’ve gone sane.  If you are going to undertake this work, you must be convenient to it.  And your mother should be where she can see that you are properly dressed, fed, and cared for.  This is our—­let me think—­reception-room.  How do you like it?  This door leads to your workroom and study.  I didn’t do much there because I wasn’t sure of my way.  But I knew you would want a rug, curtains, table, shelves for books, and a case for your specimens, so I had a carpenter shelve and enclose that end of it.  Looks pretty neat to me.  The dining-room and kitchen are back, one of the cows in the barn, and some chickens in the coop.  I understand that none of the other girls’ mothers milk a cow, so a neighbour boy will tend to ours for a third of the milk.  There are three bedrooms, and a bath upstairs.  Go take one, put on some fresh clothes, and come to supper.  You can find your room because your things are in it.”