moved into the mansion. But he had kept his rooms in the Schoolhouse,
and was glad to know that he could go back to them.

Major Prime had the west sitting-room. It was lined with low
bookcases, full of old, old books. There was a fireplace, a winged
chair, a broad couch, a big desk of dark seasoned mahogany, and over
the mantel a steel engraving of Robert E. Lee. The low windows at the
back looked out upon the wooded green of the ascending hill; at the
front was a porch which gave a view of the valley.

Randolph's arrival had had something of the effect of a triumphal
entry. Jefferson had driven him straight to the Schoolhouse, but on
the way they had encountered old Susie, Jefferson's mother, who cooked,
and old Bob, who acted as butler, and the new maid who waited on the
table. These had followed the surrey as a sort of ecstatic convoy.
Not a boarder was in sight but behind the windows of the big house one
was aware of watching eyes.

"They are all crazy to meet you," Randy's mother had told him, as they
came into the Major's sitting-room after those first sacred moments
when the doors had been shut against the world, "they are all crazy to
meet you, but you needn't come over to lunch unless you really care to
do it. Jefferson can serve you here."

"What do you want me to do?"

"My dear, I'm so proud of you, I'd like to show you to the whole world."

"But there are so many of us, Mother."