While the others were planning and talking at least twenty words to the dozen, Nell was looking solemnly up at the tall windows with an expression of ecstacy on her small face. Boris came up presently and pulled her hand.
"What are you in a brown study for?" he asked.
"Oh, Boris," she exclaimed, flashing round on him; "it is more a white dream than a brown study. Fancy this room all lit with Chinese lanterns and the moon outside, and us sitting up until twelve o'clock, and music, Boris, and everybody dancing. The story books will have come true—oh, it will be too lovely."
"I'm thinking of the supper," said Boris. "I expect I'll get awful peckish sitting up so late. I hope there'll be jellies—I love jellies; don't you, Nell?"
"Yes; I heard Hester say there was to be a real band. I wonder if they'll play any of the airs out of Faust. I do so love the Soldier's Chorus, don't you?"
"Yes; I'll march to it when I'm big. Nell, do you think I'll be allowed to have as many cakes as I wish, and paté de foie gras? I tasted it once and 'twas ripping."
"I like it, too, rather," said Nell in a contemplative voice. "I mean to be a fairy in the dance, though, and I'll have wings. Wings! how I wish they'd bear me upward."
"Oh, do come out," exclaimed Boris. "I want to show you my dove's cage; it was ever so musty, but I've cleaned it out, and it's as sweet as a nut now."
The children left the room, and a few moments later Hester and Molly returned to the Grange.