After a while, the frantic shutting and opening of desk drawers, bureau drawers, and closet drawers, ceased. The oh’s and ah’s died down from lack of breath. Maida led the way into the south room at the left. “This is the guest chamber. And now,” she added, heading the file through a door at the back of the small hall which led into a big long room, “we’re out of the main house and in the Annex. This is the Nursery. It is over the dining room.”
The Nursery was a big room with a little bed in each corner; miniature tables and chiffoniers all painted white.
“Molly, Timmie, Dorothy, Mabel,” Maida pointed to the four beds. “Delia will sleep in that room at the left with her mother and Betsy in this room at the right with Granny Flynn. You see both these rooms open into the Nursery and Granny Flynn and Mrs. Dore can keep an eye on what’s going on here.”
“They’ll have to keep two eyes on it—if Betsy’s here,” Rosie prophesied.
“Now, except for the laundry and some empty rooms in the Annex, I think you’ve seen everything. Everything, that is, except Floribel’s and Zeke’s room. I don’t suppose you want to see them. And besides I’d have to ask their permission.”
“If I see another thing this day,” Rosie declared desperately, “I shall die of happiness this minute.”
Fortunately however, she was not called upon to gaze on any object which would have resulted in so speedy a demise. For just at that moment the cow-bell rang.
“That’s supper,” Maida explained.
Reinforcing the cow-bell’s call, came Mrs. Dore’s voice: “You must come down now, children. Your supper is on the table, all nice and hot.”