But when Margaret came to talk it over with her mother that night, she met with an unexpected objection.
"Dear heart," said Mrs. Bronson, "you know that I'd do everything in my power to grant you any reasonable wish, but don't you see that your request is a rather inconvenient one at present? You know that you haven't been really well for some time, and Sarah has been working very, very hard taking care of you days—and nights too, often. She's very tired now and has been rather ill-humored lately. Now, I don't know just what she keeps in that little trunk, but I'm perfectly sure that, if I ask her to empty it and change things about in the attic, she won't take it very pleasantly and may make an awful fuss! And we can't afford to have her get upset and leave just now, can we, dear?"
Margaret ruefully agreed, and had to be satisfied with her mother's assurance that perhaps, when she got better, and household matters had smoothed out, Sarah might be approached on the subject.
But this arrangement did not at all suit the rest of the Antiquarian Club when they held a solemn council next day.
"Suffering Simpson!" exploded Alexander. "If we wait for that hunk o' misery, Sarah, to get in a good humor, we'll wait until horse-radish tastes good on your ice-cream! Nix on that!"
"Well, What are we going to do, then?" demanded the others, despairingly.
"Just you leave it to yours truly!" announced Alexander. "I've got a little scheme!"
"Quick! Tell us what it is!"