One day Meg, thinking of all this, said to him, "Dickie, I'm going into the other room to-day. Cherry has made it all ready for me, and I'm going to have tea with Jem."
Dickie was silent, but his lip trembled. So Meg quickly went on,
"Shall I ask Cherry to dress you, dearie, so as to be up to tea with father-Jem too?"
"I can't wun about," said Dickie despondently.
"But you can sit by me," returned Meg; "and father-Jem has a secret for you."
"Has he?" asked Dickie, looking interested.
"Did you not hear him hammering and planeing in the other room?"
Dickie nodded. "Were that the secret?"
"I think so; would you not like to be dressed and see?"
Cherry stood looking on, and now added her persuasions; and Dickie, in hopes of finding out "the secret," allowed himself to be arrayed in his clothes, which, under Mrs. Seymour's soap and water and skilful fingers, could hardly be recognized for the same old garments which he had left off.