Left to himself, Percy set himself to work on straightening the bedspread, running around from one side to the other to pat and twitch impatiently.
"As soon as I get one side nice, it all comes away from the other," he said to himself. "How in the world does Jane ever make a bed, I wonder?" And at last he deserted it altogether and drew off with a very hot face. "Heigh-ho! I wish we could do something to celebrate when Rachel comes," and he wrinkled his brows in perplexity. "Oh, I know," and he clapped his hands in glee. Then he ran softly out and up to Ben's room.
But Ben wasn't in; so Percy, nearly bursting with a plan that now seemed to him very grand, was obliged to take some one else into his confidence. And that one happened to be old Mr. King, whom he met as he came downstairs with a very rueful countenance.
"What's the matter, Percy?" asked the old gentleman, with a keen glance.
"Nothing, Grandpapa," said Percy dismally.
"Goodness me! Do you carry about such a face as that for nothing?" cried the old gentleman, with a laugh. "You look as if you'd something on your mind, my boy."
"Well, I have, Grandpapa," said Percy, now driven into a corner, and looking up at last.
"Best have it out then," said Grandpapa firmly, taking one of Percy's hands, and they went on to the writing-room.
"There, now, here is just the place for a boy to get things that are unpleasant off his mind, I take it," he said, closing the door on them both. "Sit down and tell me what is troubling you, Percy."
"Can't I stand up, Grandpapa?" asked Percy, over by the table.