Tommy turned in the direction of the whistle and when he saw who it was he came along the drive at a dead run. Before Kit could catch her breath, the big front door opened and there was the rest of the family. The reunion was indeed a happy one, everyone laughing and talking at once and deluging Kit with questions. It wasn’t until they were all settled in the living-room that Kit obligingly answered all their questions, telling them about Delphi, Hope College, the friends she had made, and last of all, the secret she and Uncle Bart had discovered in the Egyptian urn.
After the Christmas holidays when Jean had gone back to New York again, Kit found her opportunity of laying her summer plan before her mother and father. She had discarded hogs for a new idea she had thought up on the train coming home. Before Jean had left, Kit had told her about her scheme and together they had worked out the details. With Jean’s additional suggestions in mind, Kit felt she was ready to approach her parents.
“There are acres and acres here that we never use at all. All that wonderful land on both sides of the river up through the valley, and the two islands besides. What I thought we could do was this, if you could just let us kids manage it. Couldn’t we start a regular summer camp? You know those hunters’ cabins that are scattered along the valley would be ideal. Jean was telling me before she left about an artists’ colony up in the Catskills, where they have cabins fitted up so that you can cook in them and everything. I’m sure we could do it here.”
It had taken much argument and figuring on paper before the consent of both was won, but Becky approved of the scheme highly.
“Land alive, Margaret,” she exclaimed, “don’t crush anything that looks like budding initiative in your children. I’d let them put cabins all over the place until it blossomed like the wilderness. There’s a stack of old furniture up in the attic at Maple Grove and over at our place, too, and they’re welcome to it. Get some cans of paint and go to work, Kit.”
Kit acted immediately on the suggestion and drove up with Tommy and Jack to look over the collection of discarded furniture. What she liked best of all were the three-drawer, old-fashioned chests and handmade wooden chairs. There were several old single bedsteads, too.
“We’re going to paint them all over, Mom, and Tommy and Jack promised to put up any shelves or things like that we may need.”
“Don’t forget that they’ll have to eat sometime,” Becky reminded. “Get some two-burner oil stoves and folding tables. Lay in a stock of candles and lamps. I’d make them bring up their own bedding if I were you, because that would be the only nuisance you’d have to contend with.”
“It’s too bad,” Kit said, “that we’re so far away from any kind of stores. There are eight cabins altogether, and there’ll be ever so many things people will want to buy. Do you suppose, Mother, that Mr. Peckham would let Lucy manage anything like that up here? She’s just dying to do something besides housework all her life.”
“But where would you put her, dear?”