“Doesn’t it look rather wobbly?” said Nancy. “I thought pea-sticks wouldn’t be strong enough, but Andrew wouldn’t let us have anything else.”
The ever-greens had been tied on with such a generous hand that their weight seemed a little too much for the triumphant arch, so that it trembled gently in the wind.
“Suppose,” said Ambrose, “that it should fall just as father and mother drive through. And I don’t believe,” he added, “that Andrew, on the box, with his tall hat on, will be able to drive through without touching the top.”
This seemed so likely, and was such an awful thought, that the children were silent for a moment. If Andrew’s tall hat did knock against the arch it would certainly fall, and perhaps hurt the whole party.
“We must tell him to be sure to bend his head,” said Pennie at last, “or it would be still better if he would take off his hat, but I’m afraid he wouldn’t do that.”
“Well, anyhow,” said Nancy, “we can’t alter it now, because we’ve got all the house to do. We must just leave it to chance.”
Nancy was fond of leaving things to chance, and though this was a more serious matter than usual, the children at last agreed that there was nothing else to be done. The rest of the morning was spent in putting ivy and holly wherever it could be put, especially on the staircase leading up to the museum. David with his hammer nailed up wreaths and sprays as fast as Pennie and Nancy could make them, till the bare white walls were almost covered and had a very fine effect.
Ambrose meanwhile had shut himself into the school-room to carry out what he hoped would be the best idea of all. He wanted to draw the two first letters of his mother’s name, MH, on cardboard, which were to be cut out, covered with ivy leaves, and put over the entrance to the museum. He could not, however, get it to look quite right, and was so long about it that the decorations upstairs were nearly finished.
“How are you getting on?” said Nancy, rushing in. You’ve been long enough to draw all the alphabet. “Well,” she continued, looking over her brother’s shoulder, “the H isn’t so bad, but I shouldn’t know what the other’s meant for. It looks like a sort of curly insect.”
“They’re old English letters,” said Ambrose proudly.