"Oh, yes! so there is. Let's go and get a drink all round; I'm awfully thirsty too." And Dick scrambles down from the dresser to the floor, and then pauses, "We've nothing in the world to drink out of!" he says ruefully. This proves only too true, for though Mrs. Trent and her cook have had the forethought to pack a few small plates and knives and forks, anything in the shape of a drinking vessel has been utterly forgotten.
"Wouldn't a flower-pot do?" mildly inquires Ted, doubtful as to how his brilliant suggestion will be received.
"Why, you muff!" replies Alick scornfully, "what about the hole? But try it yourself by all means if you like, unless you'd rather have a sieve."
But here Honor, who has been roaming about in hopes of finding something to answer their purpose, rushes into their midst triumphantly flourishing a tin can above her head.
"Look!" she cries. "I found this on the copper; it is what old Mrs. Evans brought her beer in, I expect, and I suppose she forgot to take it back when she went to her dinner. Will it do, do you think?"
But to Honor's dismay a chorus of groans greets her.
"Honor!" exclaims Molly indignantly, "a nasty beery thing like that! And most likely the old woman has been drinking out of it!"
"Well, and if she has; there's plenty of hot water. We can wash it, I suppose! At any rate I can't think of anything else," concludes poor Honor, looking rather sat upon, "but the inkstand in our room upstairs. Will that do?"
But Regy is already at work washing and rinsing the tin can, and as he has heroically promised to take first drink and report thereon, they all troop out to the pump in a body. While there engaged old Mrs. Evans, who has been hired to scrub the floors and make herself generally useful, arrives simultaneously with the furniture. Hugh, equal to the occasion, gravely hands back the tin can to its owner, and thanks her so politely, and with such a courtly bow, for the service she has rendered them in leaving it behind, that the old woman is thrown into a perfect frenzy of curtsies, accompanied by assurances of being honoured, and proud, &c. &c.
Hard work begins in earnest now for all, it being two o'clock, and everything yet to be done. The men are at first inclined to be independent, thinking doubtless that with only these young people to direct matters they can do pretty much as they like. They soon find out their mistake, however, and are not a little impressed with the quiet persistence with which Honor asserts her will and gets her own way in everything from first to last. The men appear to have a rooted objection to put up the bedsteads until the last thing, but they are soon overruled by Honor, who stands over them, so to speak, until every bed is in its place. By six o'clock everything is brought into the house, and Hugh and Regy, who have packed off the younger boys by an earlier train, are taking a general look round after having seen the men safely off the premises. They have tried all the bolts and bars and put up the shutters outside, and Molly having declared for the twentieth time that if Honor is afraid she is not, the two youths take their departure, promising to come again the next morning to help get things straight before the arrival of Mrs. Merivale with Doris and Daisy, who are expected the day after.