 CHAPTER XII It was a pleasant morning in early June. A warm wind was rustling the trees which recovered thickly with half-opened leaves and looked like fountains of green spray thrown high into the air. Dr. Carr's front door stood wide open. Through the parlor window came the sound of piano practice, and on the steps, under the budding roses, sat a small figure, busily sewing. This was Clover—little Clover still, though more than two years had passed since we saw her last, and she was now over fourteen. Clover was never intended to be tall. Her eyes were as blue and sweet as ever, and her apple-blossom cheeks as pink. But the brown pigtails were pinned up into a round knot, and the childish face had gained almost a womanly look. Old Mary declared that Miss Clover was getting quite young-ladified, and Miss Clover was quite aware of the fact, and mightily pleased with it. It delighted her to turn up her hair, and she was very particular about having her dresses made to come below the tops of her boots. She had also left off ruffles, and worn narrow collars instead, and little cuffs with sleeve buttons to fasten them. These sleeve buttons, which were present from Cousin Helen, Clover liked best of all her things. Papa said that he was sure she took them to bed with her, but of course that was only a joke, though she certainly was never seen without them in the daytime. She glanced frequently at these beloved buttons as she sat sewing, and every now and then laid down her work to twist them into a better position, or give them an affectionate pat with her forefinger. Maybe soon the side gate swung open, and Philly came around the corner of the house. He had grown into a big boy. All his pretty baby curls were cut off, and his frocks had given place to a jacket in trousers. In his hand he held something, what Clover could not see. What's that, she said, as he reached the steps? I'm going upstairs to ask Katie if these are ripe, replied Phil, exhibiting some currents fairly streaked with red. Why, of course they're not ripe, said Clover, putting one into her mouth. Can't you tell by the taste? There as green as can be. I don't care. If Katie says they're ripe I shall eat them," answered Phil defiantly, marching into the house. What did Philly want, asked Elsie, opening the parlor door as Phil went upstairs. Only to know if the currents are ripe enough to eat. How particular he always is about asking now, said Elsie. He's afraid of another dose of salts. I should think he would be, replied Clover, laughing. Johnny says she never was so scared in her life as when Papa called them and they looked up and saw him standing there with a bottle in one hand and a spoon in the other. Yes, went on Elsie, and you know Dory held his in his mouth for ever so long and then went round the corner of the house and spat it out. Papa said he had a good mind to make him take another spoonful, but he remembered that after all Dory had the bad taste a great deal longer than the others, so he didn't. I think it was an awful punishment, don't you? Yes, but it was a good one, for none of them have ever touched the green gooseberries since. Have you got through practising? It doesn't seem like an hour yet. Oh, it isn't. It's only twenty-five minutes, but Katie told me not to sit for more than half an hour at a time without getting up and running round to rest. I'm going to walk twice down to the gate and twice back. I promised her I would. And Elsie set off, clapping her hands briskly before and behind her as she walked. Why—what is Bridget doing in Papa's room, she asked as she came back the second time. She's flapping things out of the window. Are the girls up there? I thought they were cleaning the dining-room. They're doing both. Katie said it was such a good chance, having Papa away, that she would have both the carpets taken up at once. There isn't going to be any dinner today, only just bread and butter and milk and cold ham up in Katie's room, because Debbie is helping too, so as to get through and save Papa all the fuss. And see, exhibiting her sewing, Katie's making a new cover for Papa's pin-cushion, and I'm hemming the ruffle to go around it. How nicely you hem, said Elsie. I wish I had something for Papa's room, too. There's my wash-stand mats, but the one for the soap-dish isn't finished. Do you suppose, if Katie would excuse me from the rest of my practising, I could get it done? I have a great mind to go and ask her. There's her bell, said Clover, as a little tingle-sounded upstairs. I'll ask you if you like. Now let me go, I'll see what she wants. But Clover was already half-way across the hall, and the two girls ran up side by side. There was often a little strife between them as to which should answer Katie's bell, both like to wait on her so much. Katie came to meet them as they entered. Not on her feet. That, alas, was still only a far-off possibility. But in a chair with large wheels, with which she was rolling herself across the room. This chair was a great comfort to her. Sitting in it, she could get to her closet and her bureau drawers, and help herself to what she wanted without troubling anybody. It was only lately that she had been able to use it. Dr. Carr considered her doing so as a hopeful sign, but he had never told Katie this. She had grown accustomed to her invalid life at last, and was cheerful in it, and he thought it unwise to make her restless by exciting hopes which might, after all, end in fresh disappointment. She met the girls with a bright smile as they came in and said, Oh, Clovie, it was you I rang for. I am troubled for fear Brigid will meddle with the things on Papa's table. You know he likes them to be left just so. Will you please go and remind her that she is not to touch them at all? After the carpet is put down I want you to dust the table, so as to be sure that everything is put back in the same place. Will you? Of course I will," said Clover, who was a born housewife and dearly loved to act as Katie's prime minister. Shant I fetch you the pincushion too while I'm there? Oh yes, please do. I want to measure." Katie," said Elsie, those mats of mine are almost done, and I would like to finish them and put them on Papa's wash stand before he comes back. Mayn't I stop practicing now and bring my crochet up here instead? Will there be plenty of time to learn the new exercise before Miss Phillips comes, if you do? I think so. Plenty. She doesn't come till Friday, you know. Well then, it seems to me that you might just as well as not. And Elsie, dear, run into Papa's room first and bring me the drawer out of his table. I want to put that in order myself. Elsie went cheerfully. She laid the drawer across Katie's lap and Katie began to dust and arrange the contents. Pretty soon Clover joined them. Here's the cushion, she said. Now we'll have a nice quiet time all by ourselves, won't we? I like this sort of day when nobody comes in to interrupt us. Katie tapped at the door as she spoke. Katie called out, Come! And in marched a tall, broad-shouldered lad with a solemn, sensible face and a little clock carried carefully in both his hands. This was Dory. He has grown and improved very much since we saw him last and is turning out clever in several ways. Among the rest he has developed a strong turn for mechanics. Here's your clock, Katie, he said. I've got it fixed so that it strikes all right. Maybe you must be careful not to hit the striker when you start the pendulum. Have you really," said Katie, why, Dory, you're a genius. I'm ever so much obliged. It's four minutes to eleven now," went on Dory, so it'll strike pretty soon. I guess I'd better stay and hear it, so as to be sure that it is right. That is," he added politely, unless you're busy and would rather not. I'm never too busy to want you, old fellow," said Katie, stroking his arm. Here, this drawer is arranged now. Don't you want to carry it into Papa's room and put it back into the table? Your hands are stronger than Elsie's." Dory looked gratified. When he came back the clock was just beginning to strike. There, he said, that's splendid, isn't it? But alas, the clock did not stop at eleven. It went on, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen. Dear me," said Clover, what does this all mean? It must be day after tomorrow at least. Dory stared with open mouth at the clock, which was still striking as though it would split its sides. Elsie, screaming with laughter, kept count. Thirty, thirty-one, oh Dory, thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four. You've bewitched it, Dory," said Katie, as much entertained as the rest. Then they all began counting. Dory seized the clock, shook it, slapped it, turned it upside down, but still the sharp vibrating sounds continued as if the clock, having got its own way for once, meant to go on till it was tired out. At last, at the one hundred and thirtieth stroke, it suddenly seized, and Dory, with a red, amazed countenance, faced the laughing company. It's very queer, he said, but I'm sure it's not because of anything I did. I can fix it, though, if you'll let me try again. May I, Katie? I'll promise not to hurt it. For a moment Katie hesitated. Clover pulled her sleeve and whispered, Don't. Then, seeing the mortification on Dory's face, she made up her mind. Yes, take it, Dory. I'm sure you'll be careful. But if I were you, I'd carry it down to Wetherill's, first of all, and talk it over with them. Together you could hit on just the right thing, don't you think so? Perhaps," said Dory, yes, I think I will. Then he departed with a clock under his arm, while Clover called after him teasingly. Lunch at a hundred and thirty-two o'clock, don't forget. No, I won't," said Dory. Two years before he would not have borne to be laughed at so good-naturedly. How could you let him take your clock again? said Clover, as soon as the door was shut. He'll spoil it, and you think so much of it. I thought he would feel mortified if I didn't let him try, replied Katie quietly. I don't believe he'll hurt it. Wetherill's man likes Dory, and he'll show him what to do. You were real good to do it, responded Clover. But if it had been mine, I don't think I could. Just then the door flew open, and Johnny rushed in, two years taller, but otherwise looking exactly as she used to. Oh, Katie, she gasped. Won't you please tell Philly not to wash the chickens in the rain-water tub? He's put in every one of speckles, and is just beginning on Dane Durden's. I'm afraid one little yellow one is dead already. Why, he mustn't, of course he mustn't, said Katie. What made him think of such a thing? He says they're dirty because they've just come out of eggshells, and he insists that the yellow one them is yolk of egg. I told him it wasn't, but he wouldn't listen to me. And Johnny rung her hands. Clover, cried Katie, won't you run down and ask Philly to come up to me? Speak pleasantly, you know. I spoke pleasantly, real pleasantly, but it wasn't any use, said Johnny, on whom the wrongs of the chicks had evidently made a deep impression. What a mischief Phil is getting to be, said Elsie. Papa says his name ought to be Pickle. Pickle's turn out very nice sometimes, you know? replied Katie, laughing. He soon Philly came up, escorted by Clover. He looked a little defiant, but Katie understood how to manage him. She lifted him into her lap, which, big boy as he was, he liked extremely, and talked to him so affectionately about the poor little shivering chicks that his heart was quite melted. I didn't mean to hurt him, really and truly, he said, but they were all dirty and yellow, with egg, you know, and I thought you'd like me to clean them up. But that wasn't egg, Philly. It was dear little clean feathers like a canary bird's wings. Was it? Yes. And now the chicks are as cold and forlorn as you would feel if you tumbled into a pond and nobody gave you any dry clothes. Don't you think you ought to go and warm them? How? Well, in your hands, very gently, and then I would let them run around in the sun. I will, said Philly, getting down from her lap. Only kiss me first, because I didn't mean to, you know. Philly was very fond of Katie. Miss Pettingill said it was wonderful to see how that child let himself be managed. But I think the secret was that Katie didn't manage, but tried to be always kind and loving and considerate of Phil's feelings. Before the echo of Phil's boots had fairly died away on the stairs, old Mary put her head into the door. There was a distressed expression on her face. Miss Katie, she said, I wish you'd speak to Alexander about putting the wood shed in order. I don't think you know how bad it looks. I don't suppose I do, said Katie, smiling and then sighing. She had never seen the wood shed since the day of her fall from the swing. Never mind, Mary. I'll talk to Alexander about it, and he shall make it all nice. Mary trotted down the stairs, satisfied. But in the course of a few minutes she was up again. There's a man come with a box of soap, Miss Katie, and here's the bill. He says it's resated. It took Katie a little time to find her purse, and then she wanted her pencil and account book, and Elsie had to move from her seat at the table. Oh, dear, she said, I wish people wouldn't keep coming and interrupting us. Who'll be next, I wonder? She was not left to wander long. Almost as she spoke, there was another knock at the door. Come in, said Katie, rather wearily. The door opened. Shall I, said a voice? There was a rustle of skirts, a clatter of boot heels, and Imogen Clark swept into the room. Katie could not think who it was at first. She had not seen Imogen for almost two years. I found the front door open, explained Imogen in her high-pitched voice, and as nobody seemed to hear when I rang the bell, I ventured to come right upstairs. I hope I'm not interrupting anything private. Not at all, said Katie politely. Elsie, dear, move up that low chair, please. Do sit down, Imogen. I'm sorry nobody answered your ring, but the servants are cleaning house to-day, and I suppose they didn't hear. So Imogen sat down and began to rattle on in her usual manner, while Elsie, from behind Katie's chair, took a wide-awake survey of her dress. It was of cheap material, but very gorgeously made and trimmed, with flounces and puffs, and Imogen wore a jet necklace and long black earrings which jingled and clipped when she waved her head about. She still had the little round curl stuck onto her cheeks, and Elsie wondered anew what kept them in their places. By and by the object of Imogen's visit came out. She had called to say good-bye. The Clark family were all going back to Jacksonville to live. Did you ever see the brigand again? asked Clover, who had never forgotten that eventful tale told in the parlor. Yes, replied Imogen, several times, and I get letters from him quite often. He writes beautiful letters. I wish I had one with me so that I could read you a little bit. Enjoy it, I know. Let me see. Perhaps I have." And she put her hand into her pocket. Sure enough, there was a letter. Clover couldn't help suspecting that Imogen knew it all the time. The brigand seemed to write a bold, black hand, and his note-paper and envelope was just like anybody else's. But perhaps his band had surprised a peddler with a box of stationary. Let me see, said Imogen, running her eye down the page. Read, Imogen, that wouldn't interest you. Hmm, here's something. I took dinner at the rock-house on Christmas. It was lonesome without you. I had roast turkey, roast goose, roast beef, mince pie, plum pudding, and nuts and raisins. A pretty good dinner, was it not? But nothing tastes first-rate when friends are away. Katie and Clover stared, as well they might. Such language from a brigand! John Billings has bought a new horse, continued Imogen. Hmm, hmm, hmm. I don't think there is anything else you'd care about. Oh yes, just here at the end, is some poetry. Come, little dove, with azure wing, and brood upon my breast. That sweet, ain't it? Hasn't he reformed? said Clover. He writes as if he had. Reformed! cried Imogen, with a toss of the jingling earrings. He was always just as good as he could be. There was nothing to be said in reply to this. And he felt her lips twitch, and for fear she should be rude and laugh out, she began to talk as fast as she could about something else. All the time she found herself taking measure of Imogen and thinking, did I ever really like her? How queer! What a wise man Papa is! Imogen stayed half an hour, then she took her leave. She never asked how you were, cried Elsie indignantly. I noticed, and she didn't, not once. Oh, well, I suppose she forgot. We were talking about her, not about me, replied Katie. The little group settled down again to their work. This time half an hour went by without any more interruptions. Then the doorbell rang, and Bridget, with a disturbed face, came upstairs. Miss Katie, she said, it's old Mrs. Warrett, and I reckon she's come to spend the day for she's brought her bag. Whatever shall I tell her? Katie looked dismayed. Oh, dear, she said, how unlucky! What can we do? Mrs. Warrett was an old friend of Aunt Izzie's, who lived in the country, about six miles from Burnett, and was in the habit of coming to Dr. Carr's for lunch on days when shopping or other business brought her into town. This did not occur often, and as it happened, Katie had never had to entertain her before. Tell her you're busy and can't see her, suggested Bridget. There's no dinner or nothing, you know. The Katie of two years ago would probably have jumped at this idea, but the Katie of today was more considerate. No, she said, I don't like to do that. We must just make the best of it, Bridget. Run down, Clover, dear, that's a good girl, and tell Mrs. Warrett that the dining-room is all in confusion, but that we're going to have lunch here, and after she's rested I should be glad to have her come up. And oh, Clovie, give her a fan the first thing. She'll be so hot. Bridget, you can bring up the luncheon just the same, only take out some canned peaches by way of a dessert, and make Mrs. Warrett a cup of tea. She drinks tea always, I believe. I can't bear to send the poor old lady away when she has come so far, she explained to Elsie after the others were gone. Pull the rocking chair a little this way, Elsie, and oh, push all those little chairs back against the wall. Mrs. Warrett broke down in one the last time she was here, don't you recollect? It took some time to cool Mrs. Warrett off, so nearly twenty minutes passed before a heavy, creaking step on the stairs announced that the guest was on her way up. Elsie began to giggle. Mrs. Warrett always made her giggle. Katie had just time to give her a warning glance before the door opened. Mrs. Warrett was the most enormously fat person ever seen. Nobody dared to guess how much she weighed, but she looked as if it might be a thousand pounds. Her face was extremely red. In the coldest weather she appeared hot, and on a mild day she seemed absolutely ready to melt. Her bonnet strings were flying loose as she came in, and she fanned herself all the way across the room which shook as she walked. Well, my dear, she said, as she plumped herself into the rocking chair. And how do you do? Very well, thank you," replied Katie, thinking that she never saw Mrs. Warrett look half so fat before and wondering how she was to entertain her. And how's your paw? inquired Mrs. Warrett. Katie answered politely, and then asked after Mrs. Warrett's own health. Well, I'm sosed to be round, was the reply, which had the effect of sending Elsie off into a fit of convulsive laughter behind Katie's chair. I had business at the bank, continued the visitor, and I thought while I was about it I'd step up to Miss Pettingill's and see if I couldn't get her to come and let out my black silk. It was made quite a piece back, and I seemed to have fleshed up since then, for I can't make the hooks and eyes meet at all. But when I got there she was out, so I'd my walk for nothing. Do you know where she's sewing now? No, said Katie, feeling her chair shake and keeping her own countenance with difficulty. She was here for three days last week to make Johnny a school dress, but I haven't heard anything about her since. Elsie, don't you want to round downstairs and ask Bridget to bring a—a—a glass of iced water for Mrs. Warrett? She looks warm after her walk. Elsie, dreadfully ashamed, made a bolt from the room and hit herself in the hall closet to have her laugh out. She came back after a while with a perfectly straight face. Luncheon was brought up. Mrs. Warrett made a good meal and seemed to enjoy everything. She was so comfortable that she never stirred till four o'clock. Oh! How long that afternoon did seem to the poor girls sitting there and trying to think of something to say to their vast visitor. At last Mrs. Warrett got out of her chair and prepared to depart. Well, she said, tying her bonnet strings, I've had a good rest and feel all the better for it. Ain't some of you young folks coming out to see me one of these days? I'd like to have you, first rate, if you will. Tane every girl would know how to take care of a fat old woman and make her feel the home as you have me, Katie. I wish your aunt could see you all as you are now. She'd be right pleased, I know that. Somehow this sentence rang pleasantly in Katie's ears. Ah! Don't laugh at her, she said later in the evening, when the children, after their tea and the clean, fresh-smelling dining-room would come up to sit with her, and Cece, in her pretty, pink, lawn and white shawl had dropped in to spend an hour or two. She's a real kind old woman, and I don't like to have you. It isn't her fault that she's fat, and Aunt Izzy was fond of her, you know. It is doing something for her when we can show a little attention to one of her friends. I was sorry when she came, but now it's over, I'm glad. It feels so nice when it stops aching, quoted Elsie mischievously, while Cece whispered to Clover, isn't Katie sweet? Isn't she, replied Clover, I wish I was half so good. Sometimes I think I shall really be sorry if she ever gets well. She's such a dear old darling to us all, sitting there in her chair, that it wouldn't seem so nice to have her anywhere else. But then I know it's horrid in me, and I don't believe she'd be different or grow slam bang and horrid like some of the girls, even if she were well. Of course she wouldn't, replied Cece. CHAPTER XIII. It was about six weeks after this, that one day Clover and Elsie were busy downstairs. They were startled by the sound of Katie's bell ringing in a sudden and agitated manner. Both ran up two steps at a time to see what was wanted. Katie sat in her chair, looking very much flushed and excited. Oh, girls! she exclaimed. What do you think? I stood up. What? cried Clover and Elsie. I really did. I stood up on my feet, by myself. The others were too much astonished to speak, so Katie went on explaining. It was all at once, you see. Suddenly I had the feeling that if I tried I could, and almost before I thought I did try, and there I was, up and out of the chair. Only I kept hold of the arm all the time. I don't know how I got back. I was so frightened. Oh, girls! And Katie buried her face in her hands. Do you think I shall ever be able to do it again? She asked, looking up with wet eyes. Why, of course you will, said Clover, while Elsie danced about crying out anxiously. Be careful. Do be careful. Katie tried, but the spring was gone. She could not move out of the chair at all. She began to wonder if she had dreamed the whole thing. But next day, when Clover happened to be in the room, she heard a sudden exclamation, and turning, there stood Katie absolutely on her feet. Papa! Papa! shrieked Clover rushing downstairs. Dory! John Elsie! Come! Come and see! Papa was out, but all the rest crowded up at once. This time Katie found no trouble in doing it again. It seemed as if her will had been asleep, and now that it had waked up the limbs recognized its orders and obeyed them. When Papa came in he was as much excited as any of the children. He walked round and round the chair, questioning Katie and making her stand up and sit down. Am I really going to get well? She asked, almost in a whisper. Yes, my love, I think you are, replied Dr. Carr, seizing Phil and giving him a toss into the air. None of the children had ever before seen Papa behave so like a boy. But pretty soon, noticing Katie's burning cheeks and excited eyes, he calmed himself, sent the others all away, and sat down to soothe and quiet her with gentle words. I think it is coming, my darling, he said. But it will take time, and you must have a great deal of patience. After being such a good child all the years, I am sure you won't fail now. Remember, any imprudence will put you back. You must be content to gain a very little at a time. There is no royal road to walking any more than there is to learning. Every baby finds that out. Oh, Papa, said Katie, it's no matter if it takes a year, if only I get well at last. How happy she was that night. Too happy to sleep. Papa noticed the dark circles under her eyes in the morning and shook his head. You must be careful, he told her, or you'll be laid up again. A course of fever would put you back for years. Katie knew Papa was right, and she was careful, though it was by no means easy to be so with that new life tingling in every limb. Her progress was slow, as Dr. Carr had predicted. At first she only stood on her feet a few seconds, then a minute, and five minutes, holding tightly all the while by the chair. Next she ventured to let go of the chair and stand alone. After that she began to walk a step at a time, pushing a chair before her as children do when they are learning the use of their feet. Clover and Elsie hovered about her as she moved, like anxious mamas. It was droll and a little pitiful to see tall Katie with her feeble, unsteady progress and the active figures of the little sisters following her protectingly. But Katie did not consider it either droll or pitiful. To her it was simply delightful, the most delightful thing possible. No baby of a year old was ever prouder of his first steps than she. Gradually she grew more adventurous and ventured on a bolder flight. Clover running upstairs one day to her own room stood trans-fixed at the side of Katie sitting there, flushed, panting, but enjoying the surprise she caused. You see, she explained in an apologizing tone, I was seized with a desire to explore. It is such a time since I saw any room but my own. But oh dear, how long that hall is! I had forgotten it could be so long. I shall have to take a good rest before I go back." Katie did take a good rest, but she was very tired next day. The experiment, however, did no harm. In the course of two or three weeks she was able to walk all over the second story. This was a great enjoyment. It was like reading an interesting book to see all the new things and the little changes. She was forever wondering over something. Why, Dory, she would say, what a pretty bookshelf! When did you get it? That old thing? Why, I've had it two years. Didn't I ever tell you about it? Perhaps you did, Katie would reply, but you see I never saw it before, so it made no impression. By the end of August she was grown so strong that she began to talk about going downstairs. The pava said, wait. It will tire you much more than walking about on a level, he explained. You had better put it off a little while, till you are quite sure of your feet. I think so too, said Clover, and beside I want to have the house all put in order and made nice before your sharp eyes see it, Mrs. Housekeeper. Oh, I'll tell you, such a beautiful idea has come into my head. You shall fix a day to come down, Katie, and we'll be all ready for you and have a celebration among ourselves. That would be just lovely. How soon may she, Papa? Well, in ten days I should say it might be safe. Ten days? That will bring it to the seventh of September, won't it? said Katie. Then, Papa, if I may, I'll come downstairs the first time on the eighth. It was Mama's birthday, you know, she added in a lower voice. So it was settled. How delicious! cried Clover, skipping about and clapping her hands. I never, never, never did hear of anything so perfectly lovely. Papa, when are you coming downstairs? I want to speak to you dreadfully. Right away, rather than have my coattails pulled off, answered Dr. Carl laughing, and they went away together. Katie sat looking out of the window in a peaceful, happy mood. Oh, she thought, can it really be? Is school going to let out, just as Cousin Helen's hymn said? Am I going to bid a sweet goodbye to pain? But there was love in the pain, I see it now. How good the dear teacher has been to me! Clover seemed to be very busy all the rest of that week. She was having windows washed, she said, but this explanation hardly accounted for her long absences and the mysterious exaltation on her face, not to mention certain sounds of hammering and sawing which came from downstairs. The other children had evidently been warned to say nothing, for once or twice Philly broke out with, oh, Katie, and then hushed himself up, saying, I most forgot. Katie grew very curious, but she saw that the secret, whatever it was, gave immense satisfaction to everybody except herself, so though she longed to know, she concluded not to spoil the fun by asking any questions. At last it wanted but one day of the important occasion. See, said Katie, as Clover came into the room a little before tea time, Miss Pedingill has brought home my new dress, I'm going to wear it for the first time to go downstairs in. How pretty, said Clover, examining the dress, which was a soft, dove-coloured cashmere, trimmed with ribbon of the same shade. But Katie, I came up to shut your door, Bridget's going to sweep the hall, and I don't want the dust to fly in because your room was brushed this morning, you know. What a queer time to sweep a hall, said Katie, wonderingly. Why don't you make her wait till morning? Oh, she can't. There are—she has—I mean—there are—there are—there are—there are—there are—there will be other things for her to do to-morrow. It's a great deal more convenient that you should do it now. Don't worry, Katie Darling, but just keep your door shut. You will, won't you? Promise me! Very well, said Katie, more and more amazed, but yielding to Clover's eagerness, I'll keep it shut. Her curiosity was excited. She took a book and tried to read, but the letters danced up and down before her eyes and she couldn't help listening. Bridget was making a most ostentatious noise with her broom. But through it all, Katie seemed to hear other sounds—feet on the stairs, doors opening and shutting, once a stifled giggle. How queer it all was! Never mind, she said, resolutely stopping her ears. I shall know all about it to-morrow. Tomorrow dawned fresh and fair, the very ideal of a September day. Katie, said Clover, as she came in from the garden with her hands full of flowers, that dress of yours is sweet. You never looked so nice before in your life. And she stuck a beautiful carnation pink under Katie's breast-pin and fastened another in her hair. There, she said, now you're adorned. Papa is coming up in a few minutes to take you down. Just then Elsie and John came in. They had on their best frocks, so had Clover. It was evidently a festival day to all the house. Cece followed, invited over for the special purpose of seeing Katie walk downstairs. She, too, had on a new frock. How fine we are, said Clover, as she remarked this magnificence. Turn around, Cece. A panier I do declare, and a sash. You are getting awfully grown up, Miss Hall. None of us will ever be as grown up as Katie, said Cece, laughing. And now Papa appeared. Very slowly they all went downstairs, Katie leaning on Papa, with Dory on her other side, and the girls behind, while Philly clattered ahead. And there were Debbie and Bridget and Alexander peeping out of the kitchen door to watch her, and dear old Mary with her apron at her eyes crying for joy. Oh, the front door is open, said Katie in a delighted tone. How nice! And what a pretty oilcloth. That's new since I was here. Don't stop to look at that, cried Philly, who seemed in a great hurry about something. It isn't new. It's been there ever and ever so long. Come into the parlor instead. Yes, said Papa. Dinner isn't quite ready yet. You'll have time to rest a little after you walk downstairs. You have borne it admirably, Katie. Are you very tired? Not a bit, replied Katie cheerfully. I could do it alone, I think. Oh, the bookcase door has been mended. How nice it looks! Don't wait! Oh, don't wait! repeated Phil in an agony of impatience. So they moved on. Papa opened the parlor door. Katie took one step into the room, then stopped. The colour flashed over her face, and she held by the doorknob to support herself. What was it that she saw? Not merely the room itself, with its fresh muslin curtains and vases of flowers, nor even the wide, beautiful window which had been cut toward the sun or the inviting little couch and table which stood there evidently for her. No. There was something else. The sofa was pulled out, and there upon it, supported by pillows, her bright eyes turned to the door, late cousin Helen. When she saw Katie she held out her arms. Clover and Cece agreed afterward that they never were so frightened in their lives at this moment. For Katie, forgetting her weakness, let go of Papa's arm and absolutely ran toward the sofa. Oh, cousin Helen! Dear, dear cousin Helen!" she cried. Then she tumbled down by the sofa somehow. The two pairs of arms and the two faces met, and for a moment or two, not a word more was heard from anybody. Isn't it a nice prize? shouted Philly, turning a somersault by way of relieving his feelings, while John and Dory executed a sort of war dance around the sofa. Philly's voice seemed to break the spell of silence, and a perfect hubbub of questions and exclamations began. It appeared that this happy thought of getting cousin Helen to the celebration was Clover's. She it was who had proposed her to Papa and made all the arrangements, and artful puss she had set Bridget to sweep the hall on purpose that Katie might not hear the noise of the arrival. "'Cousin Helen's going to stay three weeks this time. Isn't that nice?' asked Elsie, while Clover anxiously questioned, "'Are you sure you didn't suspect? Not one bit? Not the least tiny weenie might?' "'No, indeed. Not the least. How could I suspect anything so perfectly delightful?' And Katie gave cousin Helen another rapturous kiss. Such a short day as that seemed. There was so much to see, to ask about, to talk over, that the hours flew and evening dropped upon them all like another great surprise. Cousin Helen was perhaps the happiest of the party. Beside the pleasure of knowing Katie to be almost well again, she had the additional enjoyment of seeing for herself how many changes for the better had taken place during the four years among the little cousins she loved so much. It was very interesting to watch them all. Elsie and Dory seemed to her the most improved of the family. Elsie had quite lost her plaintive look and little injured tone, and was as bright and beaming a maiden of twelve as anyone could wish to see. Dory's moody face had grown open and sensible, and his manners were good-humored and obliging. He was still a sober boy, and not especially quick in catching an idea, but he promised to turn out a valuable man. And to him, as to all the other children, Katie was evidently the centre and the sun. They all revolved about her and trusted her for everything. Cousin Helen looked on as Phil came in crying after a hard tumble and was consoled, as Johnny whispered an important secret, and Elsie begged for help in her work. She saw Katie meet them all pleasantly and sweetly, without a bit of the dictatorial elder sister in her manner, and with none of her old, impetuous tone. And best of all she saw the change in Katie's own face, the gentle expression of her eyes, the womanly look, the pleasant voice, the politeness, the tact in advising the others without seeming to advise. Dear Katie, she said a day or two after her arrival, this visit is a great pleasure to me. You can't think how great. It is such a contrast to the last I made, when you were so sick and everybody so sad. Do you remember? Indeed I do. And how good you were, and how you helped me, I shall never forget that. I'm glad. But what I could do was very little. You have been learning by yourself all this time. And Katie, darling, I want to tell you how pleased I am to see how bravely you have worked your way up. I can perceive it in everything, in papa, in the children in yourself. You have won the place which you recollect I once told you an invalid should try to gain, of being to everybody the heart of the house. Oh, cousin Helen don't, said Katie, her eyes filling with sudden tears. I haven't been brave. You can't think how badly I sometimes have behaved, how cross and ungrateful I am, and how stupid and slow. Every day I see things which ought to be done, and I don't do them. It's too delightful to have you praise me, but you mustn't. I don't deserve it. But although she said she didn't deserve it, I think that Katie did. End of chapter 13. End of what Katie did by Susan Coolidge.