“I know,” said Terry suddenly. “Let’s send all the linen to the wash, and then it will be lovely and clean and smelling lavendery when she comes back to it.”
Anne Mary was not sure if this was a good thing to do. There was such a lot of it, and it would look so funny on the bill if they suddenly had a hundred and twelve table-cloths, and only one white shirt, and—
“Well, anyhow, George thinks it’s a lovely idea,” said Terry carelessly, “and you know what fun it will be putting it all back again.”
The thought of putting it all back again was too much for Anne Mary.
“Very well, darlings,” she said, “we’ll do it. Come along.”
So they counted it out. There were 112 table-cloths, 42 bath-towels, 73 small towels, 26 pairs of sheets, 229 pillow-cases, and more dusters than I can possibly put down here. And they all went to the laundry together. On the Saturday morning they all came back (except one duster) and Anne Mary, Terry and George put them in the cupboard as neat as neat, George being particularly helpful. And then they waited for their Mother.
She came at last. Anne Mary said that she was prettier than ever, and Mr. Dewpond said she had never looked so well, and Terry and George thought that she was even nicer to kiss than she had ever been before. For some time they all talked together about everything, and you could see that Mrs. Dewpond couldn’t help thinking of her linen-cupboard now and then, but she didn’t say anything; and Terry and George kept whispering to each other, “Won’t she be surprised when she sees?”—and sometimes George said to Anne Mary, “How surprised do you think she’ll be?” At last she got up, saying, “Well, I think I’ll just—” and they knew where she was going, and they all went with her. She threw open the chest, and of course she knew at once what had happened. She just clasped her hands and cried, “My darlings, but how they are ravishing!” And then they all four hugged each other.
Later on, when he saw the bill, Mr. Dewpond clasped his hands and cried, too.