“Well, Miss Larkin,” said Marjorie, “I’m sure Mother would like you to have things just as you want them. But I don’t believe we children can help you fix them. I think we’d better go downstairs and be out of your way. Then you tell Sarah and Thomas what you want, and they’ll do it.”
“Very well,” said Miss Larkin, with a preoccupied air. She was trying her rocking-chair as she spoke, now at one window and now at another, and seemed scarcely to hear Marjorie’s words.
Just then, Sarah appeared with the tea-tray, and so Midget told her to await Miss Larkin’s orders, and to call Thomas, if necessary, to help her move the furniture.
Then the four children went downstairs, and after giving Rosamond over to the care of Nurse Nannie, they held a council of war.
“She’s crazy,” said Marjorie, with an air of deep conviction.
“I knew it!” declared King. “You know I called her Loony Larky. You needn’t frown at me, Midge; I’m not calling her that now. I’m just reminding you.”
“Well, I believe she is. Did you ever hear of a guest cutting up so?”
“I don’t believe she liked the decorations,” said Kitty, thoughtfully.
“She said she did,” observed King.
“Yes; but that was just so she wouldn’t hurt our feelings,” went on Kitty. “I saw her look when she first got into the room, and I thought she looked disgusted. Then, to be nice to us, she said they were lovely.”