“We did it all this morning,” added Pat.
“Thought of it and gathered them and everything,” chattered the Kitten, walking on all sides of them.
“Don’t you tell,” warned Pat’s eyebrows.
“You couldn’t guess, could you?” asked the Kitten.
“Now stop; from here,” said Phyllisy, “shut your eyes and we’ll lead you so you won’t see too soon.”
So the Princess shut her eyes, and Pat and Phyllisy led her and the Kitten went ahead over the lawn until they said, “Now, open!”
Directly before them was the great wicker chair from the piazza, sitting under a tree. But nobody would have known it was that chair at all—so trimmed and flowery.
There were pink and purple and white ones from the garden, and tall plumes of small feathery ones, that were wild ones, nodding on the back, and all lovely.
“Do you notice what they are?” asked Phyllisy. “We wouldn’t have any other kind.”
“Do you know why we had that kind?” asked Pat.