on't
care how much dust you bring in, but I _should_ be lawth to have you get
any on you here. Well, there! now you need a proper good rest, I'm sure,
both of you. Wouldn't you like a cup o' tea now?"

[Illustration: "'NOT A THING IN THE HOUSE!'"]

Both girls declined the tea, and declared that an hour's rest was all
they needed; so the good woman bade them "rest good!" and hurried
downstairs, to fling herself into a Berserker fit of cooking. "Not a
thing in the house!" she soliloquized, as she sifted flour and beat eggs
with the energy of desperation, "except cookies and doughnuts; and
Marthy always has everything so nice, let alone what they're used to at
home. I'll make up a sheet of sponge-cake, I guess, first, and while
it's baking I can whip up some chocolate frosting and mix a pan of
biscuit. Le' me see! I might make a jelly-roll, while I'm about it, for
there's some of Marthy's own currant jelly that she sent me last fall.
They'd ought to have some hearty victuals for supper, I suppose; but I
declare,"--she paused, with the egg-beater in her hand,--"stuffed
aigs'll have to do to-night, I guess!" she concluded with a sigh. "There
isn't time to get a chicken ready. Well, there! If I'd ha' known! but
they'll have to take me as I am. I might give 'em some fritters,
though, to eat with maple surrup, just for a relish."

While these formidable preparations were going on against their peace of
body, the two girls were enjoying an hour of perfect rest, each after
her own manner. Rose was curled up on the bed, in a delicious doze which
was fast deepening into sound sleep. Hildegarde sat in a low chair with
a book in her hand, and looked out of the window. She could always rest
better with a book, even if she did not read it; and the very touch of
this little worn morocco volume--it was the "Golden Treasury"--was a
pleasure to her. She looked out dreamily over the pleasant green fields
and strips of woodland; for the house stood at the very end of the
little village, and the country was before and around it. Under the
window lay the back yard, with a white lilac-tree in blossom, and a
well with a long sweep. Such a pleasant place it looked! A low
stone-wall shut it in, the stones all covered with moss and gay red and
yellow lichens. Beside the white lilac, there was a great elm and a
yellow birch. In the latter was an oriole's nest; and presently
Hildegarde heard the bird's clear golden note, and saw his bright wings
f