“Walk home with me and see my funny little room. It’s bright now, and the air will do you good. Come, both of you, and have a frolic as we used to,” said Polly, for the red sunset now burning in the west seemed to invite them out.
They agreed, and soon the three were walking briskly away to Polly’s new home, in a quiet street, where a few old trees rustled in the summer, and the morning sun shone pleasantly in winter time.
Is up a winding stair,”
sang Polly, running up two flights of broad, old-fashioned steps, and opening the door of a back room, out of which streamed the welcome glow of firelight.
“These are my pets, Maud,” she added, pausing on the threshold, and beckoning the girls to look in quietly.
On the rug, luxuriously basking in the warmth, lay a grey kitten, and close by, meditatively roosting on one leg, stood a plump canary, who cocked his bright eye at the newcomers, gave a loud chirp as if to wake his comrade, and then flew straight to Polly’s shoulder, where he broke into a joyful song to welcome his mistress home.
“Allow me to introduce my family,” said Polly; “this noisy little chap the boys named Nicodemus; and this dozy cat is called Ashputtel, because the joy of her life is to get among the cinders. Now take off your things, and let me do the honours, for you are to stop to tea, and the carriage is to come for you at eight. I arranged it with your mother while you were upstairs.”
“I want to see everything,” said Maud, when the hats were off, and the hands warmed.
“So you shall; for I think my housekeeping arrangements will amuse you.”
Then Polly showed her kingdom, and the three had a merry time over it. The big piano took up so much room there was no place for a bed; but Polly proudly displayed the resources of her chintz-covered couch, for the back let down, the seat lifted up, and inside were all the pillows and blankets. “So convenient, you see, and yet out of the way in the day-time, for two or three of my pupils come to me,” explained Polly.
Then there was a bright drugget over the faded carpet, the little rocking-chair and sewing-table stood at one window, the ivy ran all over the other, and hid the banqueting performances which went on in that corner. Book-shelves hung over the sofa, a picture or two on the walls, and a great vase of autumn leaves and grasses beautified the low chimney-piece. It was a very humble little room, but Polly had done her best to make it pleasant, and it already had a home-like look, with the cheery fire, and the household pets chirping and purring confidingly on the rug.
“How nice it is!” exclaimed Maud, as she emerged from the big closet where Polly kept her stores. “Such a cunning tea-kettle and saucepan, and a tête-a-tête set, and lots of good things to eat. Do have toast for tea, Polly, and let me make it with the new toasting-fork; it’s such fun to play cook.”
Fanny was not so enthusiastic as her sister, for her eyes saw many traces of what seemed like poverty to her; but Polly was so gay, so satisfied with her small establishment, so full of happy hopes and plans, that her friend had not the heart to find a fault or suggest an improvement, and sat where she was told, laughing and talking while the others got tea.
“This will be a country supper, girls,” said Polly, bustling about. “Here is real cream, brown bread, homemade cake, and honey from my own beehives. Mother fitted me out with such a supply, I’m glad to have a party, for I can’t eat it all quick enough. Butter the toast, Maudie, and put that little cover over it. Tell me when the kettle boils, and don’t step on Nicodemus, whatever you do.”