There was a large old-fashioned chest of drawers in the room. We brought in our dainty bureau with its pretty glass, and I gave up all the drawers to Fan, taking the other. There was a nice wardrobe for our dresses and boxes. When Nelly returned from school she helped with our pictures and brackets, and we had ourselves as well as our room in order before the travelers returned. Baby had been good as an angel all day. I dressed her clean and put on one of the pretty bibs that Daisy had crocheted, and Ann had the supper table in readiness.
They were all tired, enough, though we had bound them by solemn promises not to do any of our fall shopping. They had made a few calls, selected the carpet and made arrangements to have papa’s study chair covered with Russia leather. So we kissed them and made them welcome, both ladies being somewhat surprised by our day’s work.
It was beautiful on Friday, and there was not the least shadow of an excuse for mamma to stay. Not that we were so very glad to have her go, after all, but we knew it would bring forth good fruit in the end. Tim was about half crazy and brought all her play-things to be packed up, but mamma compromised by taking her large rag doll, as the baby could play with that.
“Girls,” said Mrs. Whitcomb on Saturday morning, “suppose we begin at the other rooms. Nelly and Daisy can do a good deal in the way of helping. I want to get the house all in order before your mother returns. And there will be the carpet to make the first of the week.”
“Agreed;” we all said, and went at it with a good will. Daisy declared “that it was almost as splendid as moving, and she hoped sometime we would move.” She was too young to remember the discomforts of our coming to Wachusett.
This was a regular frolic. Mrs. Whitcomb was so charming with her ways of quiet fun and odd bits of wisdom. Like mamma, she knew how to begin at the right end, and make matters go on smoothly. There is such a difference in that. She kept the children good-natured and we were all as busy as bees.
Just as we were hurrying our utmost, about mid-afternoon a carriage stopped. Daisy ran to the side window to reconnoitre.
“It is the Maynards,” she announced, “and a whole load of ladies.”
“Some one must go—Rose!”
“O, dear, no, not—”