“How much is it?” asked Mr. Delight, taking out his check-book.
“It is $15,000, but it is very well-built and—”
“That is quite satisfactory to me, Mr. Betts,” said Mr. Delight, calmly writing his check for $15,000.
“And you can supply us with furniture, I suppose?” asked Mr. Delight, passing the check to the obliging carpenter.
“Everything from a rocking-chair to a telephone,” said Mr. Betts happily.
“Betsey!” called Mother’s voice.
“Here is a present from Aunty, for your birthday,” said Mother when Betsey opened the door.
Betsey sat right down on the stairs, smoothed out the long, pink ribbon carefully (for she was sure to need it when she became Madame Bettina, the French dressmaker), and shook out her present. It was a tiny sideboard with shelves for Mrs. Delight’s china, with fascinating doors that opened and shut, each set with a little silver-colored knob.
“O for my new house!” cried Betsey. “Isn’t it the luckiest thing, Mother, for I’m afraid Mr. Betts doesn’t keep sideboards!”
Mother laughed and waved her hand at the happy little figure.