“We’ve got to know about length of curtains, and whether furniture will fit in,” declared Leslie wisely. “I’ve thought it all out nights in the sleeper on the way over here. Just think! Isn’t it going to be fun furnishing the whole house? You know, Cloudy, I didn’t have hardly anything sent, because it really wasn’t worth while. We sort of wanted to leave the house at home just as it was when Mamma was living, to come back to sometimes; and so we let it to an old gentleman, a friend of Grandfather’s and Guardy’s, who has only himself and his wife and servants, and will take beautiful care of it. But I went around and picked out anything I wanted, rugs and pictures and some bric-à-brac, and a few bits of old mahogany that I love, just small things that would pack easily. Guardy said we might buy our own things. He set a limit 121 on our spending, of course; but he said it would be good experience for us to learn how to buy wisely inside a certain sum.”
Julia Cloud went around like one in a dream with her new tape-measure, setting down careful figures, and feeling like a child playing dolls again. It was almost three o’clock when they finally finished their measurements, and Allison hurried them back to the inn, and repaired to the station to meet trains.
Leslie made her aunt lie down on the bed, supposedly for a nap; but no one could have taken a nap even if he had wanted to––which Julia Cloud did not––with an eager, excited girl sitting beside the bed, just fluttering with ideas about couches and pillows and furniture and curtains.
“We’ll have a great deep couch, with air-cushions on the seat and back, and put it in the middle of the living-room facing the fireplace, won’t we, Cloudy? And what color do you think would be pretty for the cushions? I guess blue, deep, dark-blue brocaded velvet, or something soft that will tone well with the mahogany woodwork. I love mahogany in a white room, don’t you, Cloudy? And I had a great big blue Chinese rug sent over that I think will do nicely for there. You like blue, don’t you, Cloudy?” she finished anxiously. “Because I want to have you like it more even than we do.”
“Oh, I love it!” gasped Julia Cloud, trying to set her mind to revel in extravagant desires without compunction. She was not used to considering life in terms of Chinese rugs or mahogany and brocade velvet.
“I’d like the curtains next the windows to be all alike all over the house, wouldn’t you? Just sheer, 122 soft, creamy white. And then inner curtains of Chinese silk or something like that. We’d want blue in the living-room, of course, if we had the blue rugs and couch, and oh! old rose, I guess, in the dining-room, or perhaps mahogany color or tan. Green for that sun-porch room! That’s it, and lots of willow chairs and tables! And rush mats on the tiled floor! Oh! Aren’t we having fun, Cloudy, dear? Now, I’ll write out a list of things we have to buy while you take a nap.”
And so it went on the whole afternoon, until the sound of a distant whistle warned them that the five-o’clock train was coming in and they must be prepared to meet Mr. Luddington.
According to programme they hurried into their wraps, and went down to the piazza, to wait for the car. None too soon, for Allison was already driving around the curve in front of the door, and Mr. Luddington sat beside him, radiating satisfaction. Anything that pleased his adorable wards pleased him, but this especially so, for he was in a hurry to respond to the many telegrams summoning him home to California, and the quicker this little household was settled, the sooner he might leave them.
They drove at once, of course, to the house, Allison and Leslie talking fast and eagerly every minute of the way, their eyes bright and their faces beautiful with enthusiasm; and Mr. Luddington could only sit and listen, and smile over their heads at Julia Cloud, who was smiling also, and who in her new silvery garments looked to him all the more a lady and fit to play mother to his wards.
“Well, now, now, now!” said Guardy Lud after they had gone carefully over every room and were 123 coming down-stairs again. “This is great! This certainly is great. I couldn’t have had it better if I’d made it to order, could I? And I certainly wish you were settled here, and I could stay long enough to take breakfast with you and enjoy some more of your excellent buckwheat cakes, Miss Cloud.” He turned with a gallant bow to Julia. “I hope you’ll teach my little girl here to bake them just like that, so she can make me some when she comes back to California to visit us again.”