u are not
too tired, Ben, you might rake round a little while I shut the blinds.
I want things to look nice and tidy."

Two little groans went up from two afflicted little girls as they
looked about them at the shady bower, the dear porch, and the winding
walks where they loved to run "till their hair whistled in the wind,"
as the fairy-books say.

"Whatever shall we do! Our attic is so hot and the shed so small, and
the yard always full of hens or clothes. We shall have to pack all our
things away and never play any more," said Bab, tragically.

"May be Ben could build us a little house in the orchard," proposed
Betty, who firmly believed that Ben could do anything.

"He wont have any time. Boys don't care for baby-houses," returned Bab,
collecting her homeless goods and chattels with a dismal face.

"We sha'n't want these much when all the new things come; see if we
do," said cheerful little Betty, who always found out a silver lining
to every cloud.

CHAPTER VIII.

MISS CELIA'S MAN.

Ben was not too tired, and the clearing-up began that very night. None
too soon, for, in a day or two, things arrived, to the great delight of
the children, who considered moving a most interesting play. First came
the phaeton, which Ben spent all his leisure moments in admiring,
wondering with secret envy what happy boy would ride in the little seat
up behind, and beguiling his tasks by planning how, when he got rich,
he would pass his time driving about in just such an equipage, and
inviting all the boys he met to have a ride.

Then a load of furniture came creaking in at the lodge gate, and the
girls had raptures over a cottage piano, several small chairs, and a
little low table, which they pronounced just the thing for them to play
at. The live stock appeared next, creating a great stir in the
neighborhood, for peacocks were rare birds there; the donkey's bray
startled the cattle and convulsed the people with laughter; the rabbits
were continually getting out to burrow in the newly made garden; and
Chevalita scandalized old Duke by dancing about the stable which he had
inhabited for years in stately solitude.

Last, but by no means least, Miss Celia, her young brother and two
maids, arrived one evening so late that only Mrs. Moss went over to
help them settle. The children were much disappointed, but were
appeased by a promise that they should all go to pay their respects in
the morning.

They were up so early, a