“Yes. Only there isn’t going to be any gray and pink rug,” answered Polly. “Mother told me this noon. She has talked it over with Daddy, and she wants to wait till spring when he goes off to the Hardware Convention. She’ll go with him and buy the furniture then and get the latest—she said so. And what do you think?”
No one thought. They stared at the sparkling Polly.
“Mother said,” Polly announced with a rush, “that, as long as she wasn’t going to use the room, we could have it for our clubroom this winter!”
“Polly! How perfectly lovely!” squealed Margy, in delight.
“When did she say so?” asked Artie, this being the first time he had heard the news.
“This noon, after you had gone,” Polly told him. “And it’s the nicest room—three windows and a window seat and as warm as toast. The radiator is under the window seat. There isn’t a bit of furniture in it, so we can move our own stuff in. And it’s over the back hall, so it won’t matter if we do make a little noise. No one will hear us.”
“I said last night I wished we had a room we could use,” declared Jess. “But our house is so little we use every single place. In winter Dora doesn’t go home to sleep, and that takes an extra room.”
“My goodness, Jess Larue,” said Polly, “don’t you think you’ve done enough? We’ve had that perfectly fine room in your barn ever since the club was started. We’ll never have as nice a place as that, and the minute it is warm we’ll move back. But I certainly am glad we can have this room.”
“I am, too,” declared Fred. “I say three cheers for your mother. Do you suppose we can meet there to-morrow afternoon, Polly?”
“Well, we can, if you’re willing to help move this afternoon,” said Polly. “I think, if every one will help, we can get everything done in time. If there is one thing I will not stand,” she announced firmly, “it is to meet in the room before we get our stuff moved in. I’d rather postpone the meeting.”