“Wal, here we are and here we be,” announced Nat, drawing up his horses before the gate. “I see Miss Phebe’s got ahead of us, but what can ye expect with a load of six and her with only them two. Jest wait, marm, and I’ll lift ye down.” He performed this office, if rather ungracefully, certainly skilfully, for he swung the little figure of Miss Helen to the ground as if she were a bag of potatoes. The others clambered out at the tail of the wagon and went forward to where Mrs. Corner and Miss Phebe stood on the little porch before the door. On either side lilacs were in bloom and a climbing rose was trained over the window.
The entry, covered with oilcloth, separated parlor from sitting-room. The former, opened only on state occasion, had a queer, musty smell, as of a place seldom aired. Haircloth covered furniture stood at stiff angles. A marble-topped table bore a lamp, a photograph album, one or two books and ornaments. There were two crayon portraits on the wall, one of Captain Hooper in uniform, another of a young woman with two children by her side. The four girls disposed themselves upon the long sofa which stood primly against the wall.
“Isn’t it stuffy?” said Jack in a low tone to Nan.
Nan nodded.
“Why don’t they open the windows this lovely day, so the smell of the lilacs can come in?” continued Jack.
Nan shook her head at the questioner, for Miss Phebe appeared upon the threshold. “Mother’ll be pleased to see you,” she said, addressing Miss Helen. “I think, if you’ll excuse me,” she turned to the girls, “that she’d better not see you all at once; it might be too exciting for her; she’s not used to much company. Do you mind waiting till she’s got accustomed to your mother and aunt?”
The girls assured her that they did not mind in the least.
“If you’ll entertain yourselves with any of the books or things, we won’t be long,” continued Miss Phebe apologetically. “There’s a box of shells on the lower shelf of the whatnot; you might like to look at them. My Grandfather Hooper was a seafaring man, and he brought them home from foreign parts. Some of them are real pretty.” She stooped down, lifted the box and set it on the broad window-sill, then she conducted Miss Helen and Mrs. Corner to the room across the entry.
While the twins took possession of the box of shells Nan and Mary Lee made a survey of the books on the table.
“They’re awfully stupid,” declared Mary Lee, reading the titles: “‘History of Cumberland County,’ ‘The Life of General Grant,’ ‘Aids to the Young.’ What a funny old book. Thomson’s ‘Seasons,’ Young’s ‘Night Thoughts.’ Do look here, Nan, at the illustrations; aren’t they weird? Oh, dear, I’d hate to be shut up long in this house. Do you suppose we dare to open a window or go out-of-doors?”