“We don’t want to;” cried the younger ones in chorus.
“Well, have your own way;” and Fan sat down in mock despair. “I am determined to be obeyed in some respect.”
After we had them all snugly tucked in bed that evening, the elders discussed the plan again. Papa approved of it so strongly that he wrote the letter immediately.
“But there is so much to do,” declared mamma. “I intended to change the girls to the front chamber and put Nelly and Daisy in theirs. And we want a new carpet for the study, and—oh, I don’t believe I can go!”
“There is always some path out of the woods;” said Mrs. Whitcomb when our laugh had subsided. “You need the rest—that is the strongest argument. And I have come to help. You cannot make me company if you try.”
On the following day we had it all out straight. The three seniors were to go to Westburg on Thursday and buy everything they could lay their hands upon. Friday afternoon mamma was to take her journey. The next week on Wednesday or Thursday papa was to go up after her, the two to come home on Saturday. There it was all as plain and easy as “twice two” in the multiplication table.
They started bright and early in the morning. Fan and I went at the front chamber. There was not much to do, for the walls were papered. Ann cleaned the paint, we washed windows and rubbed the paper with a soft cloth, then she shook the carpet for us and we tacked it down.
“It seems odd to move over to this side of the house,” said Fan, “but I shall like it ever so much. And Nell will be so pleased. She hates to be packed like pins in a paper. But now comes the tug of war—clothes, bureau drawers, odds and ends, and the plagues of Egypt.”
“O no;” I returned laughingly.
“Well—flies, anyhow. They are not all gone.”