At four o’clock the next afternoon Burnet was in sight.  Long before they touched the wharf Clover discovered old Whitey and the carryall, and Alexander, waiting for them among the crowd of carriages.  Standing on the edge of the dock appeared a well-known figure.

“Papa! papa!” she shrieked.  It seemed as if the girls could not wait for the boat to stop, and the plank to be lowered.  How delightful it was to feel papa again!  Such a sense of home and comfort and shelter as came with his touch!

“I’ll never go away from you again, never, never!” repeated Clover, keeping tight hold of his hand as they drove up the hill.  Dr. Carr, as he gazed at his girls, was equally happy,—­they were so bright, affectionate and loving.  No, he could never spare them again, for the boarding-school or any thing else, he thought.

“You must be very tired,” he said.

“Not a bit.  I’m hardly ever tired now,” replied Katy.

“Oh, dear!  I forgot to thank Mr. Peters for taking care of us,” said Clover.

“Never mind.  I did it for you,” answered her father.

“Oh, that baby!” she continued:  “how glad I am that it has gone to Toledo, and I needn’t hear it cry any more!  Katy!  Katy! there’s home!  We are at the gate!”

The girls looked eagerly out, but no children were visible.  They hurried up the gravel path, under the locust boughs just beginning to bud.  There, over the front door, was an arch of evergreens, with “Katy” and “Clover” upon it in scarlet letters; and as they reached the porch, the door flew open, and out poured the children in a tumultuous little crowd.  They had been on the roof, looking through a spy-glass after the boat.

“We never knew you had come till we heard the gate,” explained John and Dorry; while Elsie hugged Clover, and Phil, locking his arms round Katy’s neck, took his feet off the floor, and swung them in and ecstasy of affection, until she begged for mercy.

“How you are grown!  Dorry, you’re as tall as I am!  Elsie, darling, how well you look!  Oh, isn’t it delicious, delicious, delicious, to be at home again!” There was such a hubbub of endearments and explanations that Dr. Carr could hardly make himself heard.

“Clover, your waist has grown as small as a pin.  You look just like the beautiful princess in Elsie’s story,” said Johnnie.

“Take the girls into the parlor,” repeated Dr. Carr:  “it is cold out here, with the door open.”

“Take ’em upstairs!  You don’t know what is upstairs!” shouted Phil, whereupon Elsie frowned and shook her head at him.

The parlor was gay with daffodils and hyacinths, and vases of blue violets, which smelt delightfully.  Cecy had helped to arrange them, Elsie said.  And just at that moment Cecy herself came in.  Her hair was arranged in a sort of pin-cushion of puffs, with a row of curls on top, where no curls used to grow, and her appearance generally was very fine and fashionable; but she was the same affectionate Cecy as ever, and hugged the girls, and danced round them as she used to do at twelve.  She had waited until they had had time to kiss once all round, she said, and then she really couldn’t wait any longer.