"How old is she?"
"Sixteen, he says."
"Oh, then this will do. And we can put a cot in your private office--after office hours. If Mr. Lee is an old friend he won't object to anything."
"You're a dear girl! And they won't stay long, of course--especially when they see how crowded we are. You'll like Thorne Lee, Charlotte; he's one of the best fellows alive. I haven't seen the sister since she was a small child, but if she's anything like her brother you'll have no trouble entertaining her, sick or well. All right! I'll answer Lee's letter, and say nothing about our being full-up."
"Of course not; that wouldn't be hospitality. When will they come?"
"In a day or two--as soon as she feels like travelling again."
"I'll be ready for her," and Charlotte gave him her brightest smile as he hurried off.
She finished her bed-making, put the little room set apart for her own private den into guest-room condition as nearly as it was possible to do with articles of furniture borrowed from next door, and went down to break the news to Mrs. Fields. She found that person explaining with grim patience to the Peyton children why they could not make candy in her kitchen at the inopportune hour of ten in the morning.
"But we always do at home!" complained Lucy, with a frown.
"Like as not you don't clear up the muss afterward, either," suggested Mrs. Fields, with a sharp look.