When Bettie was returning with her spoils to Dandelion Cottage she almost bumped into Mabel, whom she met at the gate with a pillow under each arm, a folded patchwork quilt balanced unsteadily on her head, and her chubby hands clasped about a big brass lamp.
"The pillows are off my own bed," said Mabel. "Mother wasn't home, but she wouldn't care, anyway."
"But can you sleep without them?"
"Oh, I'll take home one of the excelsior ones," said Mabel. "I can sleep on anything."
Jean came in a moment later with a pile of blankets and quilts. She, too, had a lamp, packed carefully in a big basket that hung from her arm. Marjory followed almost at her heels with more bedding, towels, a fourth lamp, and two candlesticks.
"Well," laughed Bettie, when all the lamps and candles were placed in a row on the dining-room table, "I guess Miss Blossom will have almost light enough. Here are four big lamps and two candles—"
"I've six more candles in my blouse," said Mabel, laughing and fishing them out one at a time. "I thought they'd do for the blue candlesticks Mrs. Crane gave us for the bedroom."
"Isn't it fortunate," said Jean, who was thumping the mattress vigorously, "that we put the best bed in this room? Beds are such hard things to move."
"Ye-es," said Bettie, rather doubtfully, "but I think we'd better tell Miss Blossom not to be surprised if the slats fall out once in a while during the night. You know they always do if you happen to turn over too suddenly."
"We must warn her about the chairs, too," said Marjory. "They're none of them really very safe."