Randy and Her Friends Part 10

"I am only doing what I would have some one do for my daughter in a like position," was the reply, and looking up, Randy saw a beautiful light in the kind eyes which looked into hers, and without a word she laid her hand in that of her new friend.

"Boston! Boston!" shouted the brakeman, and with a start Randy found herself suddenly upon her feet, and with the other pa.s.sengers making her way toward the door.

The great train-house, the crowd, the trucks loaded with trunks and bags, the lights, the noise and bustle so confused Randy that she failed to see the face for which she was eagerly looking.

"Do you see your friends?" asked the gentle voice, but as she stepped upon the platform she was rejoiced to hear her name called by the voice which she so well knew.

"O Randy dear, you did come didn't you?" and for a moment Helen Dayton held her young friend closely; then she noticed the old lady who stood smiling at what was so evidently a happy meeting.

Hastening toward her, Helen extended her hand as she said,

"I am so glad to see you, Mrs. Seymour, are you acquainted with this dear friend of mine? I thought you were conversing when you stepped upon the platform."

"We have had no introduction," said the old lady, smiling, "but we became acquainted on the car just before we reached Boston."

"And she promised to take me to her home if you did not arrive," said Randy.

"I am glad that I was prompt, that you might know how eager I was to see you, but had I been late, I could have asked for no kinder friend, or more charming home for you, Randy, than this which was so sweetly offered you to-night."

After formally introducing them, and thanking Mrs. Seymour for her kindness, Miss Dayton led Randy through the depot to a side entrance, where her carriage stood waiting.

The coachman opened the door, and soon the little country maiden was being whirled through the city streets, and the blaze of lights from the huge store windows caused Randy to ask in wide-eyed wonder if there was "anything special going on."

"Oh, no," said Helen, "the streets are brightly lighted every night, and the people are walking, hurrying, rushing back and forth, looking into the windows of the great stores, as eagerly as if the doors were open for customers; then hastening away to some place of amus.e.m.e.nt, or to their homes."

Randy leaned luxuriously against the cushioned back of the coupe, and with her hand in Helen's, she continued to watch the hurrying throng, and to wonder vaguely if there were a sufficient number of houses to shelter them all if they happened to think of retiring.

After what seemed to Randy to be a very long ride, the carriage stopped.

Together they ascended the broad sandstone steps, and as the butler opened the door, the soft light in the hall showed the glowing red of the walls above the carved oak wainscoting, and the odor of flowers floated out to greet them.

Then down the stairway came a beautiful old lady, whose grace and dignity bespoke the grand dame, as with gentle courtesy she moved toward Randy, extending her hand in greeting. Without waiting for an introduction she said,

"My dear, I am sure that you are Randy, and I am going to tell you that I am Helen's aunt, and that I think I have been as eager to have you with us as Helen has been."

Randy placed her hand in the one extended toward her, and looking frankly up into the fine old face she said,

"It is nice to have you so glad to see me, will you let me love you while I stay? I think I cannot help it."

"While you stay, and always," was the quick response accompanied by a firm pressure of the young girl's hand, and Randy felt as if at once among friends.

Miss Dayton who had been giving the coachman instruction in regard to Randy's trunk, turned in surprise to see her aunt and Randy engaged in conversation.

"I waived the ceremony of an introduction," said the elder woman with a smile, "and I do a.s.sure you, Helen, that we are already quite well acquainted."

"While I thought Randy was just behind me waiting until her belongings were safely housed," Helen answered with a gay laugh, for she saw at a glance, that her friend had found favor in Aunt Marcia's eyes; those discriminating eyes which never failed to recognize the frank and the true, or to detect the sham, however skillfully concealed.

"How lovely she is," thought Aunt Marcia, as Randy with Helen ascended the staircase toward the room which was to be Randy's own, during her stay in Boston.

"How handsome your dear old aunt is," said Randy to Helen, as they walked along the upper hall. "Her hair is like the frost, and her eyes just twinkle, twinkle, like stars when the night is cold."

"Why, what a pretty thought," said Helen. "Aunt Marcia was a great beauty, and a portrait of her when she was presented at court, hangs in the drawing-room. Sometimes I think she is even handsomer now, with her fine gray eyes and waving hair. If you are pleased with her, Randy, I a.s.sure you that she is delighted with you; and now here we are at the room which is to be yours while you are with us."

"Oh, what a lovely room," cried Randy. "Roses, pink roses on the walls, and real roses in the vase on my table, and such a dear little bed. Why, the quilt has roses on it, too! 'Tis like a fairy tale, and makes me feel like a princess. Oh, if mother and father and little Prue could see--"

Again a sob arose in her throat, although she bravely repressed it.

"Not a tear to-night, Randy dear," said Helen, "but instead let me tell you what will cheer you, and make you feel nearer to them all to-night.

This little desk is for your use, and all your letters home will be written here, where you will find paper and pens and ink awaiting you.

Now, would you not like to write just a little note, saying that you arrived safely, and Thomas shall post it, so that it shall reach its destination as soon as possible. You are too tired to-night to write much of a letter, but to-morrow you can write twenty pages if you choose."

"And if I did, in all the twenty pages I could not tell them how much I miss them, and yet how glad I am to be here," said Randy. "Isn't it odd to be glad and sorry at the same time?

"Well, I'll write the little note now, that they may receive it as soon as possible."

"And when it is written, come down to the hall where I will meet you, and when we have given the note to Thomas, we will have dinner."

"Dinner!" said Randy, "why I thought everyone had dinner at twelve o'clock!"

"In the city we have dinner at six, and lunch at one, and never a supper at all," said Helen, smiling at Randy's frank look of surprise. "To-night dinner will be later, because your train was delayed, and I wished you to have time for your note."

Randy hastened to write the little letter, and then proceeded to freshen her toilet, and when with the envelope in her hand she tripped down the hall where Helen stood waiting, she looked every inch the fresh, sweet Randy of the New England hills. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright, and the soft little ringlets curled over her temples in a manner most bewitching.

Oh, how grand the dining-room looked to the girl who had never seen anything finer than the parson's house in the country village.

The dinner was a simple one, but to Randy the room with its fine furnishings, the rare flowers in the centre of the table, the noiseless tread of the servant with his silver salver, the soft light from the great chandelier, all seemed a part of the fairyland of which she had so often read in the old volume of "Grimm's Tales" at home.

It was remarkable, however, that with all that was new and beautiful about her, Randy seemed as much at ease as if always accustomed to her present surroundings.

So innocent was she in her frank enjoyment of all the beautiful things which she saw, and the absence of affectation in her manner made her sincere admiration so delightful, that Helen felt that Randy was even more charming than when they had last met, and Aunt Marcia completely captivated, at once decided that never before had a young country girl appeared to so great advantage when transplanted to a city home.

After dinner Helen sang some pretty ballads for Randy, and Aunt Marcia told with evident delight reminiscences of her youth.

Randy admiring the full length portrait of the dear old lady as she had appeared in earlier days, looked frankly up in her face and said,

"You were lovely then, but I think you are grander now," which of course delighted Aunt Marcia.

When at last Randy lay in her dainty bed, the light from the great street lamps shone across the room, and on the wall before her, she could see the rose vines upon the paper, and counting the blossoms, she fell asleep.

When the sun came in at her window, Randy awoke with a start, and turning toward the little clock which ticked upon the table she was surprised to find that it was quite time to dress. When Miss Dayton had told her that breakfast would be served at eight, Randy had wondered at the lateness of the hour, remembering that at home, seven o'clock was considered to be as late as any energetic person would think of breakfasting.

"To think that I shall have just time to make myself presentable, and at home I should have been awake long ago, and by this time have dressed Prue and myself and have eaten breakfast. Whatever made me sleep so soundly?"

On the stairway she met Helen, and together they entered the dining room, where before the crackling fire in the grate stood Aunt Marcia, waiting to greet them.

During breakfast, Helen proposed a drive to the shopping district when she could make a few purchases and at the same time show Randy the wonders of the great stores.

"The school will not open until next week," said Helen, "and we will make this week a succession of little pleasure trips. We will visit the places of interest and endeavor to make you wholly at home in our city, and before school opens I shall invite some of the girls who will be your cla.s.smates to meet you, so that on the opening day you will feel that you have some acquaintances in the school."