But Polly was speechless with delight as she stood looking, first at the big double bed with the carved roses at the head and foot and next at the dressing-table with its dainty silver brushes and combs and Dresden china candlesticks. A slender-legged
table with a bowl of yellow tea-roses on it stood beside the bed, and the walls were hung with colored prints of Greuze’s “Girl with the Broken Pitcher” and “The Milk Maid,” Reynolds’ darling portrait of “Penelope” and “The Boy with the Rabbit.”
Polly, in the days of Aunt Hannah and her four-posted beds and crazy quilts, had dreamed of a room such as this. Finally she managed to answer Lois’ question.
“I didn’t know about it myself, till this very minute,” she gasped. “Oh, Uncle Roddy, it’s beautiful! I never saw anything half so lovely!”
“I wanted you to feel at home, dear child, and now I think you had both better get to sleep.” And after renewed thanks and good-night kisses, he left them.
A second later Mrs. Bent tiptoed in with a broad smile that took in the whole world.
“You’re hungry, I’m sure, my dears. I’ll have some hot chocolate ready for you when you get into bed; just ring when you want it.”
Polly and Lois hugged each other for joy and after taking a disgracefully long time to undress, they finally fell asleep over their chocolate and cakes.
The two weeks of Christmas vacation was an unending good time; every minute was full. The mornings were spent chiefly in bed, for Mrs. Bent brought them their breakfast and sat to chat.