CHAPTER XXXII.

COMING HOME.

THE next afternoon, when it was nearly time for the stage, the three children went down to the house, with clean clothes and faces, and hair in a wonderful state of smoothness.

Nimpo and Rush took matches in their hands to be ready, and Robbie climbed up to the window to watch. After long and tiresome waiting, they heard the driver's horn, and knew that the stage was coming round the corner. So both of them lighted matches, though with excited, trembling hands, and set fire to long paper lighters which they had prepared. And then they stood and held them, and gazed at the approaching red stage, ready, on the least sign of drawing up at the door, to stuff the torch into the shavings.

But, alas! it cruelly drove by, and Nimpo was

so surprised and grieved, that she held her paper till it burnt her fingers.

Disappointment is a hard thing to bear, and slowly and sadly the children locked up the house, and walked back to Mrs. Primkins'.

That lady stood on the steps, and something like a smile came round her mouth, though it felt so little at home that it didn't stay long.

"So your folks didn't come, eh?"

"No," said Nimpo, with a choking in her throat. "Wall, I didn't expect 'em a mite; people 'most always get hendered on the way; likely they've had a storm on the lake, too. You better unpack your trunk now, and stay another night or two."

Poor Nimpo had locked and strapped her trunk, sure that she should never open it again at Mrs. Primkins', and now she couldn't even go to bed without getting out nightgowns and brushes. It was almost as bad to unpack that night as it was on the first day, when she was so disappointed.

The next day was fearfully long; it did seem as though school would never be out, and several times Nimpo thought the clock had stopped.

But evening came, and again the eager watchers lighted their torches and awaited with fastbeating hearts the heavy roll of the lumbering wheels. They knew they would come this time. But again the hateful stage rolled by with no sign of stopping.

Robbie began to cry, and Nimpo felt very much as if she would like to cry herself, while Rush suddenly had pressing business in another part of the house.

However, they once more walked sadly back to Mrs. Primkins'.

"You'll make out your week yet," was her greeting; "here it is Friday night, and if they don't come to-morrow, they'll wait till Monday,— and that'll be just five weeks to a day."

"They must come before Monday," said Nimpo, greatly disturbed, for Mrs. Primkins' cool way of speaking made it seem the most natural thing in the world for them to stay a week or two longer.

"If wishes were horses, then beggars would ride," was Mrs. Primkins' irritating reply. "Wishing and hoping never brought any thing to pass

that ever I see in my experience. Waiting's the thing for us to learn. Likely your ma's stopped over to see somebody."

"If they don't come to-morrow, I never can wait till Monday," said Nimpo, excitedly.

"Hoity-toity! I guess you'll have to," said Mrs. Primkins, mockingly. "You've got several things to learn yet, my lady, though you're 'mazin' wise in your own conceit."

Nimpo felt that she could not stand another word, so she went on up-stairs. But on the way she made a resolution:

"If they don't come to-morrow, I'll get Sarah down to the house, and stay there till they do come. I can't stand it here another day."

But happiness was close by. The next morning, before they were out of bed, there came up the attic stairs a joyful sound, although it was Mrs. Primkins' voice:

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Children, your folks is come!"

With a glad cry, Nimpo sprang out of bed, and tried to dress; but never were buttons so stubborn, nor hooks and eyes so clumsy; never did strings

get so tangled, nor hair so snarled; it seemed as if she should never get her clothes on. And there was Robbie calling excitedly for her to dress him

too.

As for Rush, he jumped into his clothes- as a boy will-and was down-stairs and half-way home before Nimpo was ready to begin on Robbie.

At last, however, enough buttons were adjusted to hold the clothes on, and without stopping to pack the trunk again, Nimpo and Robbie set off on a run for home.

Before they were half-way there, they met Rush, wheeling a wonderful little wheel-barrow, which mother had brought for Robbie.

Robbie could not get by that, and Nimpo let go of his hand and rushed on alone.

In a moment she was, to her surprise, sobbing in her mother's arms.

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Oh, mother! I'm so glad you've come!" was all she could say.

"Then you prefer home to boarding, after all, do you, dear?" said her mother, kissing her.

"Oh, mother!" Nimpo broke out penitently,