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Page 45
"We will begin to-morrow morning," added Clover. "May we, Clarence? May we
play that it is our house, and do what we like, and change about and
arrange things? It will be such fun."
"Fire away!" said her cousin, calmly. "The more you change the more we
shall like it. Geoff and I aren't set in our ways, and are glad enough to
be let off duty for a week. The hut is yours just as long as you will
stay; do just what you like with it. Though we're pretty good housekeepers
too, considering; don't you think so?"
"Do you believe he meant it?" asked Clover, confidentially afterward of
Mrs. Hope. "Do you think they really wouldn't mind being tidied up a
little? I should so like to give that room a good dusting, if it wouldn't
vex them."
"My dear, they will probably never know the difference except by a vague
sense of improved comfort. Men are dreadfully untidy, as a general thing,
when left to themselves; but they like very well to have other people make
things neat."
"Mr. Templestowe told Phil that they go off early in the morning and don't
come back till breakfast at half-past seven; so if I wake early enough I
shall try to do a little setting to rights before they come in."
"And I'll come and help if I don't over-sleep," declared Mrs. Hope; "but
this air makes me feel dreadfully as if I should."
"I sha'n't call you," said Clover; "but it will be nice to have you, if
you come."
She stood at her window after Mrs. Hope had gone, for a last look at the
peak which glittered sharply in the light of the moon. The air was like
scented wine. She drew a long breath.
"How lovely it is!" she said to herself, and kissed her hand to the
mountain. "Good-night, you beautiful thing."
She woke with the first beam of yellow sun, after eight hours of dreamless
sleep, with a keen sense of renovation and refreshment. A great splashing
was going on in the opposite wing, and manly voices hushed to suppressed
tones were audible. Then came a sound of boots on the porch; and peeping
from behind her curtain, she saw Clarence and his friend striding across
the grass in the direction of the stock-huts. She glanced at her watch. It
was a quarter past five.
"Now is my chance," she thought; and dressing rapidly, she put on a little
cambric jacket, knotted her hair up, tied a handkerchief over it, and
hurried into the sitting-room. Her first act was to throw open all the
windows to let out the smell of stale tobacco, her next to hunt for a
broom. She found one at last, hanging on the door of a sort of
store-closet, and moving the furniture as noiselessly as she could, she
gave the room a rapid but effectual sweeping.
While the dust settled, she stole out to a place on the hillside where the
night before she had noticed some mariposa lilies growing, and gathered a
large bunch. Then she proceeded to dust and straighten, sorted out the
newspapers, wiped the woodwork with a damp cloth, arranged the disorderly
books, and set the breakfast-table. When all this was done, there was
still time to finish her toilet and put her pretty hair in its accustomed
coils and waves; so that Clarence and Mr. Templestowe came in to find the
fire blazing, the room bright and neat, Mrs. Hope sitting at the table in
a pretty violet gingham ready to pour the coffee which Choo Loo had
brought in, and Clover, the good fairy of this transformation scene, in a
fresh blue muslin, with a ribbon to match in her hair, just setting the
mariposas in the middle of the table. Their lilac-streaked bells nodded
from a tall vase of ground glass.
"Oh, I say," cried Clarence, "this _is_ something like! Isn't it
scrumptious, Geoff? The hut never looked like this before. It's wonderful
what a woman--no, two women," with a bow to Mrs. Hope--"can do toward
making things pleasant. Where did that vase come from, Clover? We never
owned anything so fine as that, I'm sure."
"It came from my bag; and it's a present for you and Mr. Templestowe. I
saw it in a shop-window yesterday; and it occurred to me that it might be
just the thing for High Valley, and fill a gap. And Mrs. Hope has brought
you each a pretty coffee-cup."
It was a merry meal. The pleasant look of the room, the little surprises,
and the refreshment of seeing new and kindly faces, raised Mr.
Templestowe's spirits, and warmed him out of his reserve. He grew cheerful
and friendly. Clarence was in uproarious spirits, and Phil even worse. It
seemed as if the air of the High Valley had got into his head.
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