The choosing of the wall papers was a most bewildering and fascinating work, and when Cassy saw a certain design of roses on a cream ground she begged to have that for her room.
“And what am I to have?” asked her uncle.
Cassy gravely considered chrysanthemums and buttercups and purple clematis.
“Which do you like best?” she asked.
“Yours,” he returned.
The shopman unrolled another paper, and Cassy gave a little scream of delight.
“You can have the other,” she cried, for here were morning-glories, delicately trailing up a creamy white paper; curling tendrils, heart shaped leaves, and all, looked so very natural.
“I’ll agree,” said her uncle. “I will take the roses,” and so with buttercups for Jerry and chrysanthemums for Mrs. Law they were all satisfied.
Then came the buying of furniture, for Mrs. Law’s poor little stock would go only a very little way towards being enough, and next there were carpets and curtains and many other things, and finally there came a day when Mrs. Law went up to the cottage with her brother to set up the furniture which had been unpacked and stood ready to be placed in the different rooms.
At last came the time when they were to leave the Dallas place to take possession of their new home. Martha had been on hand for several days getting Mrs. Dallas’s rooms all in order, uncovering the furniture and pictures and getting out the ornaments; the upholsterers had been at work putting up the curtains and putting down the carpets and rugs so that the house, when they left it, appeared very much as it did that day when Cassy had first seen it, and was less familiar to her than it had been in its summer aspect. Along the garden walks gusts of wind were sweeping the dry leaves and it looked wintry and cold out there.