Mrs. Morrison had made the Misses Whartons' large bedroom habitable, and in a very short time it was pronounced quite comfortable for the present; so there really were only the hall and staircase to arrange, about which Eva had numerous theories, which she propounded sitting on the top stair in an apron made of newspapers.
'Leave half a yard at each end for moving the stair-carpet up and down every week,' she observed.
'That is a very good idea, if we have enough,' replied Amy.
'If not, you must put mats at the turnings of the stair; it's most important; also, you must put a pad on each step, then you feel as if you were sinking into velvet,' came from Eva, still sitting at her ease and surveying the workers.
'What kind of pad?' asked Stella, who with Amy was laying the stair-carpet.
'Velvet,' said Eva, absent-mindedly.
'What nonsense, Eva! What do you mean?' demanded Amy.
Eva, who had been looking out of the staircase window, turned her head. 'I wasn't thinking of what I was saying—felt, I mean—or, failing that, folds of newspapers, and by so doing you double the life of your carpet,' she explained.
'Then, suppose you go and get that pile of newspapers that came from Scotland, and fold them into pads, instead of sitting there coolly and watching us work?' suggested her friend.
'I might, for a consideration,' agreed Eva, and help she did with such good-will that the house was quite comfortable by night.