"There, there, Randy, you've done your father a good turn this time, sure enough, ef it's true. Sit down and tell me where ye heard all this."

So Randy, having regained her breath, told her anxious listeners the tale, beginning with her intended call upon Miss Dayton; how she strolled through the grove and across the brook, and sat down to rest upon the big stone by the wall, with the great alders behind her; how she had, at first sound of the voices, tried not to listen, and, on hearing an unfriendly voice mention her father's name, she had, although afraid of detection, crept close to the wall, to hear if the men really meant to harm him.

Then she had told all that she had heard, word for word, finishing with, "And, father, he _can't_ make you swap, can he? he seemed so determined."

Then Mr. Weston did a very unusual thing. Putting his arm around Randy, he drew her down upon his knee, where she had not sat since she was a little girl like Prue, and as he looked at her, with just a suspicion of moisture in his kind, blue eyes, he said, "Mother, we've got a girl to be proud of."

"And to be thankful for," said Mrs. Weston.

"Amen!" said Randy's father, and he added, "Always be as brave and quick to do what's right, Randy, as you have been to-day, even forgetting your own pleasure, and I will trust you anywhere."

Here little Prue, who had been awed into silence by the earnestness of the conversation, found her tongue once more, and piped in with, "Why, pa, my big sister Randy's been good again. How can she be always good?"

They all laughed, and Randy, catching little Prue and giving her a tight hug, said: "I know who's got the best little sister in all the world. I have, just as sure as your name is Prudence."

"I like you to love me lots, Randy dear, but don't you call me anything but Prue. 'Prudence' makes me think of Aunt Prudence, and she looked all so," and here Prue drew down her wee mouth, and puckered up her fair little forehead and brows into such a scowling imitation of Aunt Prudence, that even her father, who did not at all approve, could not help smiling at the dimpled copy of that lady's unpleasant face.

Soon Mrs. Weston had tea ready, and the family had but just finished the evening meal when a loud tap at the door announced some neighbor's arrival. Mr. Weston looked at his wife, with a twinkle in his eye, as he arose to answer the knock.

"Well, well, Jason, come in, come in!" Thus Mr. Weston welcomed his crafty neighbor.

"How are ye, Square Weston? I thought I'd jist drop in an' see if you'd made up yer mind about that piece er land er mine."

"Well, yes, I hev," said Mr. Weston, looking his neighbor squarely in the face; "I told ye, a month ago, I'd give ye two hundred dollars in cash fer that big medder of yourn."

"I know it, I know you did; but the thing is, I've took a reel fancy to that little rocky pasture er yourn, and I feel 's if I'd lots rather have it, little as it is, than the cash, 'f you'll believe me."

Jason Meade sat back in his chair with the bland air of a man who had done a good deed in praising his neighbor's property.

Mrs. Weston came out of the closet where she had been placing the dishes and stood by her husband's chair, anxiously awaiting his answer. She knew his generous nature, but she believed that this time he would be firm.

Randy, who after tea had taken the fairy book to the table to read, now leaned forward with parted lips.

Slowly Mr. Weston turned toward his neighbor, and a faint smile played about his lips as he said, "I'll tell ye, Jason, I jist thought that while it ain't so very val'able now, I've 'bout decided to keep it, for when the railroad comes clean through it, I'm thinkin' I'll be reel pleased to think it's my property."

Jason Meade's mouth opened to its widest extent, and to say that he was amazed, astonished, or surprised, would be expressing it very mildly indeed. He cleared his throat and blinked once or twice, then, as no suitable remark seemed to suggest itself he arose, and pushing back his chair, he said "he'd reely have to go as he'd got an arrant to do at Mrs. Gray's." He sheepishly made his way toward the door, and mumbling something about the weather, he dejectedly stalked out with the air of a disappointed man.

"Why, father," said Randy, "he didn't even ask you how you knew about the railroad."

Mr. Weston laughed as he said: "I guess he didn't care how I knew. That I knew at all was what worried him."

CHAPTER VIII-TABLEAUX

One morning Miss Dayton sent a little hastily written note to Mrs.

Weston, saying that she was planning another entertainment which she believed would be as enjoyable as the picnic had been, and asking if Randy might come over and help her make some preparations for the event.

Mrs. Weston read the note, then re-read it to Randy.

"Oh, may I go, could you spare me?" said Randy, eagerly.

"Why, yes indeed," said her mother; "there is less than usual to do to-day, and nothing at all after dinner. Fly 'round and get cleared up, and you can put on your clean red and white gingham and your new hat and go over early."

"Fly 'round!" Randy did fly, and by two o'clock she was off down the road, walking as fast as her feet and her enthusiasm would take her.

What could Miss Dayton be planning, thought Randy, as she hastened toward the farm-house where Helen was staying.

Helen saw her coming and opened the door, smiling at Randy's questioning face, which expressed a world of interest in Helen's scheme, whatever it might be.

"Come right in, take off your hat, and sit down and I will tell you all about my plan for an evening's pleasure. You know I promised when I first met you that I would try to make this summer just a bit gay during my stay here. Now I believe we shall all enjoy an evening of tableaux,"

but here Helen was obliged to pause and explain just what tableaux were, "and," she continued, "I think that any one of the large girls who attended the picnic, and a few of the little ones, will make a very nice set of pictures."

"Oh, I should think it would be lovely, but," Randy added doubtfully, "what could we wear that would be nice enough for pictures or tab-"

"Tableaux," said Helen.

"Yes, tableaux," said Randy.

"I will agree to furnish the costumes," said Miss Dayton; "they will not have to be very fine to look extremely pretty in the frame. Mr. Gray has made me a fine frame which you and I will cover with evergreen. Then Mrs. Gray has two bracket lamps which we will fasten to the back of the frame to light up the pictures, and I have a lot of odds and ends of pretty things in my trunks which will be sufficiently bright and gay for costumes. Now let us go at once to the barn and decorate the frame."

Mr. Gray's man, Roger, had just brought in an immense load of evergreen.

Randy was all eagerness to help, and together they worked all the afternoon.

When she left for home the frame was thickly covered. There was evergreen and asparagus over the pictures in the "best room" where they were to exhibit to the townspeople their tableaux, and Randy had seen her costume which Helen had designed.

Miss Dayton was an ardent admirer of Greuze, and she possessed many photographic reproductions of his paintings. She also owned a number of photographs of Sir Joshua Reynold's portraits of beautiful women and children, and knowing the bareness of the walls in the average New England farm-house, she had brought these pictures with her to decorate her room during her stay. She intended to copy these beautiful pictures in the list of tableaux which she arranged.

Randy was spellbound when she saw the photographs. "Oh, Miss Dayton,"

cried she, "do you really think any of us will do?"

"Why, yes indeed," laughed Helen, "I have you all selected now. You are to be the girl with the broken pitcher in the painting by Greuze. Would you like to see your costume?"

"I guess I should like to," answered Randy, excitedly clapping her hands; so Helen showed her a waist with large, loose sleeves, a kerchief or scarf, and a wide ribbon "to tie up her bonny brown hair."

Randy went home in a fever of excitement. Think of a girl of fifteen who had never witnessed an entertainment of any kind, and you will understand with what delight she looked forward to an evening of tableaux in which she would take part.

Miss Dayton called upon those girls who she thought would like to pose for the tableaux, and every one was invited to be present.

The girls, both large and small, were delighted, and their elders were quite as pleased with the promise of an evening's enjoyment, and every invitation was enthusiastically accepted. Mrs. Gray's attic proved a perfect treasure room. She generously offered the contents of all the old trunks to Helen, saying, "If you see anything which you can make use of, I shall be truly glad." Mrs. Gray had been a city girl, and had spent the greater part of her married life there, and she brought to the farm-house many trunks containing faded finery, which, while far too good to be thrown away, were of but little use in that small country town. Helen chose those things which she could best utilize and carried them down to the front room, where she deposited them behind an improvised screen.

Randy thought the evening would never come; so did little Prue, for she, too, was to be one of the "tab things," as she called them. She could not remember the word "tableaux."

But the evening did arrive, and with it all the girls whom Helen had drilled for the proper posing, all of the boys who were curious to see the girls "fixed up for pictures," as Reuben Jenks had expressed it, and all of the farmers and their wives, who were nearly as excited as the young people.

Mrs. Gray and Helen received the friends and neighbors as they arrived, showing them the photographs on the walls and telling them that the girls, correctly dressed, would look very much like pictures when seen in the frame.