“But it does matter, dear. Now come and have your tea.”
Marcia took Molly’s damp, hot little hand in her own cool one, and led the way into the summer parlour. It had been a very ugly and neglected room, but it was so no longer. Marcia, by a very simple arrangement of art muslin had contrived to transform it into a pale green bower of beauty. The tea equipage was on the table, and very pretty did the cups and saucers look. There was fruit, the fruit that happened to be in season; there were flowers; there were hot cakes; there was fragrant tea; there were even new-laid eggs.
“Oh, I declare,” said Nesta, cheering up, for she was fond of her meals; “this does look good.”
“Shall I pour out tea?” said Molly.
“You may in future, Molly. I hope you will, but wouldn’t you like me to do so to-day?”
“Yes, please, Marcia.”
Marcia sat down and helped her sisters, and while she did so she chatted. She was quite bright and cheerful.
“I have had your rooms altered a little too,” she said.
Molly looked up with a frown.
“Yes, I hope you will forgive me, but I think they look rather nice. And instead of that sort of lumber room where you always fling everything you don’t want to use at the moment, I have made a second little bedroom for Nesta.”