'Yes,' I said, my spirits rising again, 'and that would leave the back room for Hoskins and whomever else we have—I should like Margery—wouldn't you, Dods? She is such a good-natured, sturdy little thing. And——'
'We'd better not try to settle too much,' said sensible Geordie. 'And you must talk quietly, Ida, so as to show we have really thought of it not in a—oh, a babyish way, you know.'
I felt a little ruffled at this.
'You'd better tell them all about it yourself, then,' I said; 'I don't want any of the honour and glory of it, and if there is any fear of their thinking us silly babies, why, then, we had better give up the whole idea.'
'Nonsense, Ida,' said Geordie. 'It was you who first thought of it, and I think you deserve a lot of credit for it. And I expect you'll get it too. I only want papa and mamma—papa especially—to hear of it at first in the best sort of way.'
'Yes—yes, I know!' I exclaimed, 'and you are a sensible old Dods as you always are. And see what I have got to please you,' and I held up three lovely, fat muffins.
We got the kitchen fire lighted and the tea-table spread in the parlour—I felt inclined to begin calling it 'the dining-room' now—and everything nice and ready before they all came. The first announcement of them was Esmé, who flew in as usual, followed very deliberately by Denzil. She gave me a hug when she saw the table.
'Oh, what a lovely tea!' she said, 'and how delicious the hut looks. Oh, don't you wish, Ida, we could live here always?'
I glanced at Dods—we could not help smiling at each other—it seemed a sort of good omen, her saying that, but we did not say anything. Then came papa and mamma—they had walked down slowly through the wood, and as they came to the little 'plateau' where stood the hut, I saw them stop and look at it. I wondered if the same idea was in their minds at all. I did not exactly want it to be, for I was rather pleased at being the first finder of it.