“Will you?” cried Percy, “that'll be fine!”
“Mine is the best,” said Van, just at this juncture; but it was said a little anxiously, as he saw how things were prospering with Percy; “for my flowers in the picture will always be there, and your old roots and things will die.”
“What will yours be, then, Jappy?” asked Polly very soberly. “The stand of flowers would have been just lovely! and you do fix them so nice,” she added sorrowfully.
“Oh, I'll find something else,” said Jappy, cheerfully, who had quite set his heart on giving the flowers. “Let me see—I might carve her a bracket.”
“Do,” cried Polly, clapping her hands enthusiastically. “And do carve a little bird, like the one you did on your father's.”
“I will,” said Jasper, “just exactly like it. Now, we've got something to do, before we welcome the 'little brown house' people—so let's fly at it, and the time won't seem so long.”
And at last the day came when they could all say—To-morrow they'll be here!
Well, the vines were all up; and pots of lovely climbing ferns, and all manner of pretty green things had been arranged and re-arranged a dozen times till everything was pronounced perfect; and a big green “Welcome” over the library door, made of laurel leaves, by the patient fingers of all the children, stared down into their admiring eyes as much as to say, “I'll do my part!”
“Oh, dear,” said Phronsie, when evening came, and the children were, as usual, assembled on the rug before the fire, their tongues running wild with anticipation and excitement, “I don't mean to go to bed at all, Polly; I don't truly.”
“Oh, yes, you do,” said Polly laughing; “then you'll be all fresh and rested to see mammy when she does come.”