"I know the parlor furniture is shabby, but it won't show so much at night," Bea explained. "And we might just have cake and coffee, you know, mama."
"Yes, dear, quite a nice little idea; and I think we can do it without any trouble," answered Mrs. Dering, with that degree of motherly interest that is always so encouraging, "How many would you like to have, and on what evening?"
"How good you are!" cried Bea, with a grateful hug, before she answered any questions. "Twelve is enough, don't you think so! Perhaps we'd like to dance, or if the moon should be very bright, we could play croquet and row on the pond."
"Quite delightful ideas. And what evening, dear?"
"Next—the picnic is on Wednesday. I guess on Friday evening would be the best; Miss Barnett goes home on the next Tuesday."
"On Friday evening next. Well, I will spend the meantime studying up my receipt-book, for its been a long time since I made a fancy cake," laughed Mrs. Dering. "As to the parlor, I think you had better go right in and see what is needed there."
"So we had. Come on girls;" and off fluttered Bea, with a blithe song on her lips, and followed by Kittie and Kat, who were consumed with excitement at the prospect of a picnic and party in one week.
The parlors were quite large double rooms that had never been fully furnished, but had received chairs and a table or two, by degrees; a lounge at one time, a couple of stools at another, and, lastly, a what-not, at which point contributions towards furnishing them ceased. The carpet was rather shabby, from long use, and in one or two places was worn perfectly white, which must be remedied in some way, as they looked alarmingly big. The girls opened the door, and Kat immediately said:
"Curtains must be washed."
"Sweeping the carpet with salt and tea-leaves brightens it up," added Kittie, throwing open the blinds, and letting the sunlight in.