“Oh, I never thought,” Prue answered, “I wanted to see my Randy, but I didn’t ’member that if I went to Boston there wouldn’t be any girls ’t all in our house.”

With his lantern on his arm and his little daughter clasped to his breast, Mr. Weston tramped along the rough road escorted by two neighbors who with their torches made a path of light before him.  As they reached the house, two white-faced women saw them, but while Aunt Prudence hastened to open the door Mrs. Weston drew back.

“Alive or,—­”

“I want some supper,” exclaimed a very energetic little voice and the mother sprang forward to take her lost one in her arms.

“Oh Prue, don’t ye leave us again,” she cried, her tears dropping upon the soft curls.

“But I was going to get my Randy and bring her home to you,” said Prue, “and I forgot that when I was away to Randy’s there wouldn’t be any girls to take care of you ’n Tabby.”

That night, as an especial favor, Prue was allowed to take Tabby to bed with her, and as she lay with her arms about the cat, she thought that, although her journey to Boston was prevented, there yet were comforts at home, and Tabby accustomed to sleeping in the shed, must have thought the millennium had come.

CHAPTER VIII

JUST A ROSE

It had been an easy task to convince little Prue that she must not again attempt to run away to Randy, but must try to be a little comfort to those at home; but no amount of reasoning could make her less lonely, until such a delightful thing happened.

A box addressed to Miss Prue Weston arrived one morning, and when its cover was removed, there lay the loveliest dolly, evidently sound asleep.  As Prue lifted her from the box, her eyes opened wide, causing the little girl to jump and exclaim,

“My!  Did you see her wink?  Is she alive?”

It was the first modern doll which Prue had seen, and she could hardly believe that aught but a living thing could open and shut its eyes, or smile so radiantly, thereby showing little pearly teeth.  Oh the wonder of the soft curling hair, the turning head, and jointed arms and legs!

Her dress was made from a lovely shade of blue satin, and her hat was a fine specimen of doll’s millinery.  In her hand she held a tiny envelope which enclosed a letter from Randy to Prue,—­printed, that the little sister might have the pleasure of reading it for herself.

“DEAR LITTLE PRUE:—­I send this pretty doll to you.  Her name is Randy Helen Weston, named for two whom I know you love dearly.  You will make me very happy while I am here in Boston, if you are good at school, and a little comfort to mother at home.  Let the Randy doll help you to wait cheerfully until I return, and I shall be glad that I sent her.  Print little letters to me, telling me what is happening at home and at school, and remember that I am

    “Your loving sister,
    RANDY.”