"Nor I either," said Dotty. "This house has got a good deal the best places to hide in."
Mrs. Parlin smiled, in her sweet, contented way. She was thinking how many blessings we can all find in our lot if we only look for them. Not that she would ever have known about the "nice places to hide in" if the children had not mentioned them.
"Dotty," said she, "you may run up and ask grandmother if she will dare drink any coffee to-night."
Prudy and Dotty tripped up the broad staircase, which wound about so much that Prudy said it twisted her like a string. Katie ran after them, catching her breath.
There sat the dear grandmamma, knitting some winter stockings for Prudy. There were no curtains at the windows, and the August sunshine fell on her calm face, bathing it with warm light. The carpet had not been put down yet, and the children's feet made a hollow sound on the bare floor.
"Why, grandma," said Prudy, "it wouldn't be nice here a bit, only the room has got you in it!"
"Bless thy little heart, Prudence! It will be nice enough here to-morrow night. I wouldn't have thy mother touch it to-day."
"I've got a gamma to my house," said Katie, passing her little fingers over Mrs. Read's white kerchief; "but um don't have hang-fiss on um neck."
"Yes," said Mrs. Read, in reply to the children's question, "tell your mother I will take some coffee to-night, and she is very kind to inquire."
On the whole, the supper that evening was quite a success. Mr. Parlin had come home from business, tired and sad. It was not pleasant for him to turn his steps towards that part of the town: he missed his old home more than ever. But when he entered the strange house, the lonely look left his face; for there in the hall stood his wife and children, awaiting him with smiles of welcome.