But they came in spite of her when she gave Pete a parting squeeze.
“He’ll never come to any harm if I can help it,” vowed Pat, trying to reassure her, “but I wouldn’t be wanting you to give him to me if you feel so bad.”
“Yes, I want to—take him away quick, Pat.” She shoved the handle of the cage into Pat’s hand and flew upstairs to have her weep in private.
“It isn’t as much fun going away as I thought it would be,” she mourned.
That afternoon saw the last dray load of boxes and furniture taken down to be loaded into the freight car. The trunks were all packed and strapped and placed by the front door ready to be taken to the station on the morrow.
Dr. and Mrs. Morton with Ernest and Jane were to spend their last night with the Halfords. Chicken Little was to sleep in the trundle bed with Katy and Gertie. It was most exciting to see Mrs. Halford pull it out from under the big four-poster. It stood about a foot from the floor and was covered with a blue and white woven coverlid, which Mrs. Halford said her mother had made for her when she was married.
“I like a trundle bed,” said Katy, “because if you roll out, you don’t bump so hard.”
“Katy is such a restless child she falls out of bed about once a week,” laughed Mrs. Halford. “She sleeps all over Gertie. If she tries to take her third on your side just give her a punch, Jane. I am sorry I have to crowd you all in together, but I guess you little girls will sleep even if you are thick.”
It seemed doubtful, however, if they would sleep themselves or permit anyone else to sleep that night. They whispered and tittered far into the night in spite of warning hushes from Mrs. Halford and sundry raps on the wall from Dr. Morton’s side.
Neighbors and friends had flocked in that evening to say good-by to Dr. and Mrs. Morton. And the children, though banished upstairs, had kept tab on the gathering below by dashing to the head of the stairs, regardless of nighties, every time the bell rang.