Kabanata Kabanata 13 · 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, Clovy, it was you I rang for! I am troubled for fear Bridget 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 Katy's prime minister.

"Sha'n't I fetch you the pincushion too, while I'm there?"

"Oh yes, please do! I want to measure."

"Katy," said Elsie, "those mats of mine are most done, and I would like

to finish them and put them on Papa's washstand before he comes back.

Mayn't I stop practising 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 Katy's lap, and Katy

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."

Somebody tapped at the door, as she spoke. Katy 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 Dorry.

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, Katy," he said. "I've got it fixed so that it

strikes all right. Only you must be careful not to hit the striker when

you start the pendulum."

"Have you, really?" said Katy. "Why, Dorry, you're a genius! I'm ever so

much obliged."

"It's four minutes to eleven now," went on Dorry. "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 Katy, 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."

Dorry looked gratified. When he came back the clock was just beginning

to strike.

"There!" he exclaimed; "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 all this mean? It must be day after

to-morrow, at least."

Dorry 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, Dorry! Thirty-two! Thirty-three! Thirty-four!"

"You've bewitched it, Dorry!" said Katy, as much entertained as the

rest.

Then they all began counting. Dorry 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 ceased; and Dorry, 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, Katy? I'll

promise not to hurt it."

For a moment Katy hesitated. Clover pulled her sleeve, and

whispered, "Don't!" Then seeing the mortification on Dorry's face,

she made up her mind.

"Yes! take it, Dorry. I'm sure you'll be careful. But if I were you, I'd

carry it down to Wetherell'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 Dorry; "yes, I think I will." Then he departed with the

clock under his arm, while Clover called after him teasingly, "Lunch at

132 o'clock; don't forget!"

"No, I won't!" said Dorry. 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

Katy, quietly, "I don't believe he'll hurt it. Wetherell's man likes

Dorry, 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 Johnnie rushed in, two years taller,

but otherwise looking exactly as she used to do.

"Oh, Katy!" 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 Speckle's, and

is just beginning on Dame Durden's. I'm afraid one little yellow one is

dead already--"

"Why, he mustn't--of course he mustn't!" said Katy; "what made him think

of such a thing?"

"He says they're dirty, because they've just come out of egg-shells! And

he insists that the yellow on them is yolk-of-egg. I told him it wasn't,

but he wouldn't listen to me." And Johnnie wrung her hands.

"Clover!" cried Katy, "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

Johnnie, 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."

"Pickles turn out very nice sometimes, you know," replied Katy,

laughing.

Pretty soon Philly came up, escorted by Clover. He looked a little

defiant, but Katy 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 'em, 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 'em 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 chickies 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 round

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 Katy. Miss

Petingill said it was wonderful to see how that child let himself be

managed. But I think the secret was that Katy 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 Katy," she said, "I wish _you'd_ speak to Alexander about putting

the woodshed in order. I don't think you know how bad it looks."

"I don't suppose I do," said Katy, 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 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 Katy, and here's the bill.

He says it's resated."

It took Katy 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 the next, I wonder?"

She was not left to wonder long. Almost as she spoke, there was another

knock at the door.

"Come in!" said Katy, 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. Katy 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 up stairs. I hope I'm not interrupting anything private?"

"Not at all," said Katy, 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 Katy'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

ear-rings, which jingled and clicked when she waved her head about. She

still had the little round curls stuck on to 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-by. 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 _beau_tiful letters. I wish I had one with me, so that

I could read you a little bit. You would 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 pedlar with a box of stationery.

"Let me see," said Imogen, running her eye down the page. "'Adored

Imogen'--that wouldn't interest you--hm, hm, hm--ah, 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.'"

Katy and Clover stared, as well they might. Such language from a

Brigand!

"John Billings has bought a new horse," continued Imogen; "hm, hm,

hm--him. 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's 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 ear-rings. "He was

always just as good as he could be!"

There was nothing to be said in reply to this. Katy 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! Oh, 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 Katy.

The little group settled down again to their work. This time half an

hour went by without any more interruptions. Then the door bell rang,

and Bridget, with a disturbed face, came up stairs.

"Miss Katy," she said, "it's old Mrs. Worrett, and I reckon's she's

come to spend the day, for she's brought her bag. What ever shall I

tell her?"

Katy looked dismayed. "Oh dear!" she said, "how unlucky. What can we

do?"

Mrs. Worrett was an old friend of Aunt Izzie's, who lived in the

country, about six miles from Burnet, 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, Katy had

never had to entertain her before.

"Tell her ye're busy, and can't see her," suggested Bridget; "there's no

dinner nor nothing, you know."

The Katy of two years ago would probably have jumped at this idea. But

the Katy of to-day was more considerate.

"N-o," 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.

Worrett 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, Clovy! 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. Worrett

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. Worrett broke down in one the last

time she was here--don't you recollect?"

It took some time to cool Mrs. Worrett 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. Worrett always made

her giggle. Katy had just time to give her a warning glance before the

door opened.

Mrs. Worrett 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 Katy, thinking that she never saw Mrs.

Worrett look half so fat before, and wondering how she _was_ to

entertain her.

"And how's your Pa?" inquired Mrs. Worrett. Katy answered politely, and

then asked after Mrs. Worrett's own health.

"Well, I'm so's to be round," was the reply, which had the effect of

sending Elsie off into a fit of convulsive laughter behind Katy'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 Petingill'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 seem 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 Katy, feeling her chair shake, and keeping her own

countenance with difficulty, "she was here for three days last week to

make Johnnie a school-dress. But I haven't heard anything about her

since. Elsie, don't you want to run down stairs and ask Bridget to

bring a--a--a glass of iced water for Mrs. Worrett? She looks warm

after her walk."

Elsie, dreadfully ashamed, made a bolt from the room, and hid 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. Worrett 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. Worrett 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.

'Tain't every girl would know how to take care of a fat old woman, and

make her feel to home, as you have me, Katy. 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 Katy's ears.

"Ah! don't laugh at her," she said later in the evening, when the

children, after their tea in the clean, fresh-smelling dining-room, were

come up to sit with her, and Cecy, 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 Izzie 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 Cecy whispered to Clover.

"Isn't Katy 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 Cecy.

CHAPTER 13. AT LAST

It was about six weeks after this, that one day, Clover and Elsie were

busy down stairs, they were startled by the sound of Katy's bell ringing

in a sudden and agitated manner. Both ran up two steps at a time, to see

what was wanted.

Katy 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 Katy 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 Katy

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!"

Katy 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 Katy, absolutely on her feet.

"Papa! papa!" shrieked Clover, rushing down stairs. "Dorry, John,

Elsie--come! Come and see!"

Papa was out, but all the rest crowded up at once. This time Katy 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 Katy 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 Katy'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 Katy, "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."

Katy 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, then five minutes, holding

tightly all the while by the chair. Next she ventured to let go 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 mammas. It was droll, and a little pitiful, to see tall

Katy with her feeble, unsteady progress, and the active figures of the

little sisters following her protectingly. But Katy 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 adventurous, and ventured on a bolder flight.

Clover, running up stairs one day to her own room, stood transfixed at

the sight of Katy 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."

Katy 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, Dorry," she would say, "what a pretty book-shelf! 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," Katy 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 down stairs. But Papa 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, Katy, 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 Katy. "Then Papa, if I may, I'll come down stairs the first time

on the eighth. It was Mamma'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 down stairs? I want to speak

to you _dreadfully_."

"Right away--rather than have my coat-tails pulled off," answered Dr.

Carr, laughing, and they went away together. Katy 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 good-bye 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 exultation on her face, not to mention

certain sounds of hammering and sawing which came from down stairs. The

other children had evidently been warned to say nothing; for once or

twice Philly broke out with, "Oh, Katy!" and then hushed himself up,

saying, "I 'most forgot!" Katy 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 Katy, as Clover came into the room a little before tea-time.

"Miss Petingill has brought home my new dress. I'm going to wear it for

the first time to go down stairs in."

"How pretty!" said Clover, examining the dress, which was a soft,

dove-colored cashmere, trimmed with ribbon of the same shade. "But Katy,

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 Katy, wonderingly. "Why don't

you make her wait till morning?"

"Oh, she can't! There are--she has--I mean there will be other things

for her to do to-morrow. It's a great deal more convenient that she

should do it now. Don't worry, Katy, darling, but just keep your door

shut. You will, won't you? Promise me!"

"Very well," said Katy, 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, Katy 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."

To-morrow dawned fresh and fair--the very ideal of a September day.

"Katy!" 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

Katy'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 Johnnie came in. They had on their best frocks. So

had Clover. It was evidently a festival-day to all the house. Cecy

followed, invited over for the special purpose of seeing Katy walk down

stairs. She, too, had on a new frock.

"How fine we are!" said Clover, as she remarked this magnificence. "Turn

round, Cecy--a panier, I do declare--and a sash! You are getting awfully

grown up, Miss Hall."

"None of us will ever be so 'grown up' as Katy," said Cecy, laughing.

And now Papa appeared. Very slowly they all went down stairs, Katy

leaning on Papa, with Dorry on her other side, and the girls behind,

while Philly clattered ahead. And there were Debby 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 Katy, in a delighted tone. "How nice!

And what a pretty oil-cloth. 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 your walk down stairs. You have borne it admirably,

Katy. Are you very tired?"

"Not a bit!" replied Katy, 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. Katy took one step into

the room--then stopped. The color flashed over her face, and she held

by the door-knob 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, lay--Cousin Helen! When she saw Katy, she held out her arms.

Clover and Cecy agreed afterward that they never were so frightened in

their lives as at this moment; for Katy, 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 a nice 'prise?" shouted Philly, turning a somerset by way of

relieving his feelings, while John and Dorry executed a sort of

war-dance round the sofa.

Phil'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 it to Papa,

and made all the arrangements. And, artful puss! she had set Bridget

to sweep the hall, on purpose that Katy 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 that you

didn't suspect? Not one bit? Not the least tiny, weeny mite?"

"No, indeed--not the least. How could I suspect anything so perfectly

delightful?" And Katy 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 Katy 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 Dorry 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 any one could wish to see. Dorry's moody face had grown open

and sensible, and his manners were good-humored and obliging. He was

still a sober boy, and not specially quick in catching an idea, but he

promised to turn out a valuable man. And to him, as to all the other

children, Katy 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 Johnnie

whispered an important secret, and Elsie begged for help in her work.

She saw Katy 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 Katy'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 Katy," 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 Katy, 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 Katy, 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 Katy did!