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Page 10
"Well!" she exclaimed, although there was no one there to hear
her. "Well, if this isn't the best ever!" She stood in the middle
of the room, and turned slowly round and round, taking in by
degrees the furnishings and adornment. All of the furniture was
new, and the brass bed and dainty dressing-table seemed to
Marjorie quite fit for any princess.
"Well!" she exclaimed again, and as she turned around this time
she saw the older people watching her from the hall.
"Oh, Grandma Sherwood!" she cried, and running to the old lady,
proceeded to hug her in a way that was more affectionate than
comfortable.
"Do you like it?" asked Grandma, when she could catch her breath.
"Like it! It's the most beautiful, loveliest, sweetest room in the
whole world! I love it! Did you do it all for me, Grandma?"
"Yes, Midget; that is, I fixed up the room, but for the shelf you
must thank Uncle Steve. That is his idea entirely, and he
superintended its putting up. You're to use it this year, and next
year Kitty can have her dolls and toys on it, and then the year
after, King can use it for his fishing-tackle and boyish traps.
Though I suppose by that time Rosamond will be old enough to take
her turn."
"Then I can't come again for four years," exclaimed Marjorie, with
an expression of consternation on her face.
"Not unless you come two at a time," said Grandma; "and I doubt if
your mother would consent to that."
"No, indeed," said Mrs. Maynard; "it's hard enough to lose one of
the flock, without losing two."
"Well, I'll have a good time with it this summer, anyway," said
Marjorie; "can't we unpack my trunk now, Mother, so I can put my
pearl pen in my desk; and my clock, that Rosy Posy gave me, on the
shelf; and hang up my bird picture on the wall?"
"Not just now," said her mother, "for it is nearly supper time,
and you must transform yourself from a wild maid of the woods into
a decorous little lady."
The transformation was accomplished, and it was not very long
before a very neat and tidy Marjorie walked sedately downstairs to
the dining-room. Her white dress was immaculate; a big white bow
held the dark curls in place, and only the dancing eyes betrayed
the fact that it was an effort to behave so demurely.
"Well, Midget," said Uncle Steve, as they were seated at the
supper table, "does the old place look the same?"
"No, indeed, Uncle; there are lots of changes, but best of all is
my beauty room. I never saw anything so lovely; I just want to
stay up there all the time."
"I thought you'd like that shelf. Now you have room for all the
thousand and one bits of rubbish that you accumulate through the
summer."
"'Tisn't rubbish!" exclaimed Marjorie, indignantly; "it's dear
little birds' nests, and queer kinds of rocks, and branches of
strange trees and grasses and things."
"Well, I only meant it sounds to me like rubbish," said Uncle
Steve, who loved to tease her about her enthusiasms.
But she only smiled good-naturedly, for she well knew that Uncle
Steve was the very one who would take her for long walks in the
woods, on purpose to gather this very "rubbish."
The next day Marjorie was up bright and early, quite ready for any
pleasure that might offer itself.
Her mother went back home that day, and though Marjorie felt a
little sad at parting, yet, after all, Grandma Sherwood's house
was like a second home, and there was too much novelty and
entertainment all about to allow time for feeling sad.
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