"Now," said aunt Madge, "the very first thing Grace hears in the morning will probably be bird-music."
Grace clapped her hands.
"And where am I going to sleep?" said Horace, who had been listening, and looking on in silence. His aunt had forgotten that he was sometimes jealous; but she could not help knowing it now, for a very disagreeable expression looked out at his eyes, and drew down the corners of his mouth.
"Why, Horace dear, we have to put you in one of the back chambers, just as we did when you were here before; but you know it's a nice clean room, with white curtains, and you can look out of the window at the garden."
"But it's over the kitchen!"
"There, Horace," said Grace, "I'd be ashamed! You don't act like a little gentleman! What would pa say?"
"Why couldn't I have the big front chamber?" said the little boy, shuffling his feet, and looking down at his shoes.
"Because," said aunt Madge, smiling, "that is for your mother and the baby."
"But if I could have this little cunning room, I'd go a flyin'. Grace ain't company any more than me."
Aunt Madge remembered Horace's hit-or-miss way of using things, and thought of the elephant that once walked into a china shop.