“There won’t be much needed for that, just a table and chairs, which can doubtless be snared in our attics. But your father, Dotty, offered the whole kitchenette outfit, which, I can tell you, is a noble gift.”
“Indeed it is!” cried Dotty. “I’m crazy to get at that electricky-cooky business!”
“So’m I,” declared Dolly. “When will it be all done, Mr. Rose?”
“Can’t say exactly. If all goes well you ought to get in by the last of October.”
“About Hallowe’en, then,” said Dolly. “We might have a kind of Hallowe’en party for a house-warming.”
“Gay!” cried Dotty. “We’ll get all our treasures in it by that time.”
“Let’s call it our Treasure House,—how’s that for a name?”
“Pretty good,” said Mr. Rose. “I’ve been wondering what to call it. Treasure House isn’t bad at all. Makes you think of Treasure Island.”
“Yes, so it does,” and Dolly’s blue eyes sparkled at the name of one of her best-loved books. “Oh, won’t it be fun to arrange our bookshelves. I’m glad to move some of my books, my shelves at home are overrunning.”
“Then, you see, children,” Mr. Rose was still adding to his drawings, “in the summer, you can have hammocks on the veranda, and piazza-boxes with flowers—”