“They Played All Sorts of Games”
As John opened the door the children exclaimed, “Oh, how fine!” for it was like a fairy bower. Along the shelves at each side were ranged flowering plants, and pots of trailing vines. On the floor reaching up to the shelves were boxes of blooming shrubs and palms; two canary birds, in their cages swung in the windows, were singing blithely. In the middle of the floor a table was spread; a centerpiece of ferns and pansies ornamented it, and at each one’s place was a little bunch of sweet violets tied with green and purple ribbons. A pretty basket at each end of the table was tied with the same colors; one basket was filled with sticks of chocolate tied with the lilac and green, and the other held delicate green and purple candies.
“It is just lovely, Rock!” cried Eleanor. “Did you do it all yourself? I think it is lovely, and—oh, yes, I see, to-morrow will be Easter, and that is why you can use all the flowers and plants before they are sent to the church.”
The luncheon that was served, though not a very elaborate one, seemed so to Cassy and Jerry; they felt as if suddenly transported to an Arabian Night’s entertainment, and they looked across the table at each other with smiling eyes.
When the luncheon was over they played all sorts of games, up and down the garden walks and in among the trees and shrubbery. The day would have been one full of content, without a cloud, but for a single accident.
The two girls were hiding in the tool-house, when Eleanor caught sight of a chrysalis swinging from above them.
“Oh,” she cried, “I do believe that is a fine chrysalis of some kind, a rare moth or butterfly. I am going to get it, and see what it will turn out.” She clambered upon some boards to reach the prize, Cassy deeply interested watching her, when suddenly her foot slipped and she knocked from a lower shelf a can of green paint which went down splash upon the floor, spattering Cassy from head to foot.
Cassy was overwhelmed, for poor as the dress was and half ashamed of it as she had been, nevertheless it was the best she had, and her eyes filled with tears. Eleanor, as distressed as her visitor, was at her side in an instant.
“Oh, what have I done? What have I done?” she cried. “Oh, dear, oh, dear! I am afraid it won’t come out. Let us go to Aunt Dora; she will know what to do.” She caught Cassy by the hand and sped with her into the house, calling “Aunt Dora, Aunt Dora, do come and help us! It was all my fault. I have ruined Cassy’s dress.”