MOUNT HUNGER, VERMONT, January 6th, 1898.
"And you 've had such lovely flowers come for you, five boxes of them, Rose, and piles of invitations. I 'm sure you 're engaged up to Ash Wednesday."
"Come, Chatterbox," said her father, smiling at her volubility, "Rose has just time to dress for dinner; you know Aunt Carrie and Uncle Jo are coming to-night."
"Oh, I forgot all about them; you 'll have to hurry, Rose. Wilkins, bring up the flowers. Come on," Hazel ran up the broad flight of stairs, carpeted with velvety crimson, to the first landing, from which, through a lofty arch in the hall, Rose caught a glimpse of softly lighted rooms, the walls enriched with engravings and etchings, with here and there a landscape or marine in watercolors. Rose drew a long breath. This, then, was what Chi meant when he said "Hazel was rich as Croesus."
"But, Hazel, my trunk has n't come," said Rose, as she followed her hostess into the spacious bedroom, which was separated from Hazel's only by a dressing-room.
"It 'll be here in a few minutes; papa has a special man, who always delivers them almost as soon as we get here."
Sure enough, the trunk came in time; and Rose, as she unpacked, finding evidences of the loving mother-care in every fold, cried within her heart, looking about at the exquisite appointments of her room and dressing-room:
"Martie, Martie, what would all this be without you!--Oh, I know now, what dear old Chi meant when he said Hazel was poor where we are rich--only a housekeeper to see to all Hazel's things--"
"Rose, what flowers are you going to wear?" called Hazel from her room.
"I have n't had time to look," Rose called back, surveying her white serge with great satisfaction in the pier-glass.