They had promised not to go to the library until five minutes of one, and the ten minutes intervening seemed interminable. They drifted back to the playroom to say good-by to Eliza, when Dick had an inspiration.
“Let’s take her down,” he said, “and put her in the dining-room to greet Aunt Nine when we all go out to dinner.”
“Let’s!” cried Dolly, and in a jiffy they were carrying the Lady Eliza Dusenbury silently down the back stairs. By good luck they didn’t encounter Hannah or the aunties, and they reached the dining-room in safety.
“Where shall we stand her?” said Dick. “In the bay window?”
“No,” said Dolly. “Let’s sit her at the table.”
“She won’t sit.”
“Well, we’ll sort of slide her under; if we put her in Aunt Rachel’s big chair she’ll be all right.”
They propped Eliza into the chair, and though she seemed to be falling backward in a swoon, her bright eyes and pink cheeks betokened good health. Her elaborate costume looked fine at the prettily set table, and Dick moved her arms about until they seemed extended in welcome.
“That’s fine!” said Dolly, nodding admiringly at the tableau.
“This is finer!” cried Dick, and taking the large carving-knife from the table, he thrust it into Eliza’s outstretched hand. This was easily done by sticking the knife handle partly up her long tight sleeve, and her effect, as she brandished the glittering steel, was now ferocious.